Ramblings of an Active Mind
by ShadeShadow
Summary: A Collection of fictions I started and one day intend to complete.  -Mainly HP crossovers, but other fics from other genres as well- Latest Fic Uploaded: Legacy of Kain Harry Potter Crossover
1. The Sleeper Awakes l HarryRaziel

Ok this is a little spiffy one, I sort-of-tried-to get ideas out and running and this was the best of the lot, and small Harry/Legacy of Kain crossover and what I thought would happen if one of the lieutenants (mainly Raziel *grins*) found a way to Harry's dimensions by 'fiddling' with Mobius's machine. (I secretly think that Raziel is the Guardian of the Dimension Pillar due to his switching to the spectral realm business, and can travel in a different time-scrape from his own to different worlds as a boredom thing, but yeh, that's just me lol.)

Amazing thing, a writer's block and what can come out of it when you're fascinated by vampires.

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**Title**: The Sleeper Awakes

Genre: Harry Potter, Legacy of Kain Crossover

_Summery_: I'm Harry Potter and I think I'm cursed, first I meet a night-lord when I'm barely 6 years old and get bound to the beast, but now he's back to finish the bond? Don't I have all the luck…

**Warnings**: Slight Yaoi, Blood, Vampire, others none-with-standing

_Pairing_: Slight Raziel/Harry

Disclaimer: I do not own or make money form these fictions

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Words escaped him, tears burned their way down his face, feeling like knifes were trailing ever so sweetly down his reddened skin, graceful fingers, much like a pianists, were laid upon his brow, as though checking for fever, yet were not so kind. For this being, was full of malice, and hatred, and anger; all packaged within frail flesh and bone, while intelligence flowed through snake like eyes, as the torment ran rampant though the boy.

Lifting fingers up from pained flesh, he turned to his soldiers, so-named-death-eaters who had come, bidding to his whim; all bowed down, heads foreword upon the ground, showing their servitude to a man, yet not, who, with no care for ones that so diligently followed the footsteps he walked, yet would never fill.

Harry's head slipped foreword, blood streaming down his down-turned face, glazed-green-eyes slipped over the under-grown of the graveyard and finally came upon the other who lay prone upon the ground, brown iris's stared straight, as though knowing his own orbs would set upon the young mans, while the flat eyes stared through him as accusing, with drilling force, thus anguish and hatred like he had never known welled up inside of the teenager, for the first time his childhood was now shattered into thousands of glass shards, whilst an adult mind finally took root, his perception changed forever from this moment.

Rolling his face away, grimacing with pain and feeling failure, he turned his head to look upon the murdering others, thus green eyes went wide, for the vision he saw, sent panic and terror straight to his core. One who he had known when young, was standing in the grave-yard, unnoticed by all, yet those golden iris's were seen, clear and precise to who was here, though the outfit would have given it away.

Greaves covered his lower legs, cut in such a way, so they didn't get in the way of his movements, his feet were nothing that was seen upon earth, except when the dinosaurs ruled, they were pterodactyl feet, clawed to give a wider arsenal range when weaponless, though that was never the case, anything could be turned to a weapon in this beings claws. The gauntlets were similar to his legs, both leather based to give the maximum amount of movement, they tied up over his hands so his three claws would not damage the skin, though with how old this being was he didn't need to worry much.

Leather also covered his legs, though of a slightly different shade to differate between the greaves and pants; across his torso were belts, which helped to keep the sword upon his side, while the other had his clan banner tied against his right shoulder, clearly representing that he was the head of his vampiric brethren. Lastly, he was a pale white, as though carved from ivory, black locks of hair framed his face with pointed ears showing through the strands, and black lipstick created a clear contrast that showed the smirk clear upon the beings face. But what was the precipice of the creature, were the proud wings on his back, folded majestically, comfortably against his body.

Green eyes, through a tangle of hair, watched with silent disbelief and horror, as that creature got closer and closer to his prone position. In his mind Harry begged for his magic to work, to get out of the ropes, or to whisk him away, but nothing happened and ever so quickly, that being got closer to his position.

Gold eyes were detached, cold amusement playing within their depths as he passed the wizards around him, Harry knew that the other was not interested in the proceedings, but to complete the task that he had started many moons ago upon that moonlit night, when the stars shone and the neighbourhood was dark from loss of power and the young magic wielder was blamed. Sitting under the cold starlit plain, the other came across his figure and blood-bound him, creating a bond, so when the time came, the 'Vampire' would know when ready, the time for change was at hand and his blood, could settle within his chosen human-to-become-fledgling.

Like many years back, Harry now still had that wish that somewhere in his ancestry, the one who birthed a vampiric child into the potter blood never existed, for vampires could never help themselves, but to turn a sleeper into a powerful being of the night.

Lips lifted in amusement as though knowing his thoughts, fangs gleaming in the low light. Straining more at the bindings, he could hear the dark lord laughing at Harry's apparent fear of the situation; but the boy was deaf to all except the creature that had stopped in-front of him. He flinched, his head slamming backwards as hands moved gracefully towards his face, clenching his eyes shut in a futile effort; the chuckle the other gave off sent cold shivers down his back, knowing that the other was amused at his only means of defence.

The claws gently slipped under his bowed chin and moved his head backwards, baring his face to the other, deceptively kind, but unrelenting, it held his face without effort, no matter how much he tried to pull away, sweat trickling down his brow.

How could this have happened, after so long running from his own blood, it had finally betrayed him; a lonely tear finally fell, running down his face, and in a way, prophesising the end of another's mortality, forever. Eyes slipped open, defeat shimmering within, and to meet them, golden eyes awaited as though waiting for a sign that it had finally sunk within.

-_But one thing showed, that you would not expect within the vampire lords gaze, triumph yes, glee, of course, but what made his eyes widen was the sorrow within the blood-drinkers iris's; it was as though the other knew that it was always going to be this way, and had no choice in the matter._-

Narrowing his own, his face came closer to Harry's, bringing them nose to nose, green eyes slipped shut, letting the other do what he wished; his head was tilted in such a way with the others claws, so that when cool lips met his own, he jerked, eyes open wide, as desperation was shown within; forcing his mouth open with a twist of the claws at his jaw, as pure life-blood of the clan leader rushed into his open jaw.

His throat spasmed and he swallowed his first mouthful, hands clenched at his sides as the body went rigid, and a high pitched whimper escaped the entangled mouths. Gold eyes, glowing with heat, watched as those iris's of blazing green, flared with power as his blood infused into, what would be, his first 'Quickened' fledgling; another swallow, and a spasm raced through the teens body, and if the dark lord or any of his death-eaters had looked at the boy-who-lived, they would not have seen the teen in the bindings but someone older, who was 'aging' by the minute, as though the blood was speeding up the process, to finish the others growth and affix into it's 'proper' state.

This was not the case, the blood was 'fixing' as much damage as possible; not all of it could be helped, but what would hinder the new childe was to be 'helped' as much as possible. He was trembling, he could not stop, it felt as though his body was going to burst, to destroy itself from the inside out and outside in, hands red with blood, slick in his palms, dripping with failed mortality, as deaths door shut, leaving him within darkness, and the night lord who had clamed him so many years ago.

-_Minds eye faded, a new presence took root, protection and redemption, master and father, most treasured lord, nights bane, winged one, the skies king; thoughts, feelings, memories, life, but not his own, not Harry's own, no, this was… this was, his fathers own? Nay it was more, a melding of souls, not one took from the other, yet could not be separated for long, both as one, the childe and the master, elder and his fledgling. Yes, that was right, yet why did he feel such fear of the other?_-

**End?**

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*cough* yeh, there you go, just something for you all to chew on while I try to get my other fics written up, I swear those chapters are laughing at me *glares* and don't get me started on the Dante/Nero fix I'm on, I'm desperately trying to ignore the part I've written for that as well…*shrugs*

I don't actually know where this one starts out from, I think (and this is a guess) it's a middle piece. I had plenty done in the lineout, in-fact have a read of the bit below, it was a text piece about the vampires I would have gotten Harry to read at some point… lol but yeh, I was going to do it from a mixture of Raziel's early self (basically not having his claws and powers yet) all the way to his wraith self *grins* but no matter, I'm rambling and you don't want to hear/see? Me ramble.

_**(oh if you wanna use any of the fics you see me putting up? Just send me a PM ^_^)**_

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****The Living, The Quickened & The Dead**

Did you know there are three different vampires in the world? Each divided by their type and perspectives? Well there are, though it's quite an unknown face, with only the most high class of un-aging know about. (_Yes they are named un-aging, not immortal. A stupid concept if you think on it, because, though vampires or (vampire old name_) They are hard to kill but not invincible for sure… a bullet to the head or heart will kill, unless aged to a certain degree, and fire sure does not agree with us either; plus a sword chopping us to pieces also kills us too, (_very inconvenient if you ask me, not even the eldest of our clan could survive being chopped to pieces, but I digress, I've gotten off track_…)

The difference between the 3 vampire states? They are named; the Living, the Quickened and the Dead, pretty self explanatory, but for those who are a little confused I'll explain.

The Living, are those who are borne to either one vampire parent or two; does not matter how many, due to the inherited power not being from the ones who birth the childe, the power they inherit is from the lines of their ancestors, through the link that all the vampires of each, clan, have. The living, who are born like normal children, do not grow quickly or fast, for when they are young, other than needing blood, they live pretty normal, much like a changed or dead vampire would start out. But when they get to their teen years, they go through a changing process, which is twice as bad as the usual teen years syndrome _(basically, any parents of vampire children love to give them to others, to give them a taste of the terror that vampire teens can cause_). It's in this stage, that claws begin to grow in and other extremities depending on, again, the clan of the vampires sire. Oh about their heartbeat? It is as normal as a humans, it is a reason why hunters never find the born vampires, as they are exactly like normal humans on the outside and inside.

Now the Quickened are different, these you have to be careful of when changing, for if they did not want to change in their mortal life, they will still vaguely remember their past and have the power to make your life a living hell after their rebirth. They grow quickly into their vampire aspects of teeth, claws, etc; though they will have periods of years where no changes will happen to them allowing them to cultivate their powers when able. Their heartbeat is fast, so fast in-fact that many have said that the quickened one is dead, when in reality; they just can't hear the heartbeat that beats so fast, it sounds like a drone within the body, only those with enhanced hearing; vampires, were-kind, etc, can hear the beat of a changed heart.

Lastly the Dead, these are beings brought back to life after death, and are considered the purest of the vampire race. Due to having left behind all human problems and emotions (_though that's not true really, they just don't show it in public_), these ones are in-fact beings who have no memory of their past, leaving them free to redo their life, with new purpose and favour. But one thing about these vampires, they will more than likely never turn out exactly the same as the vampire who sired them; nine times out of ten, they will gain abilities of their own, and even new morals completely different to their masters, making them the most dangerous of the 3 vampire kinds.

The one thing in common with all is that in the first many years, all are in need of protection and even a guiding hand to help them survive and learn.


	2. Emerald in the Shadow l HarryLegolas

Well here's your next part done ficcy to sink your teeth into, one of my better ones with my fully evolved writing style that I plan to use one day in writing a book of my own (when I've got the completion thing under my belt that is), anyhow have a read a send a review when your done, or alert, or even just watch, all is nice and if you criticize, be nice yo?

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**Title: Emerald in the Shadow**

_Summery_: An Elfling, tortured by darkness escapes into the muggle world. Finding his place as a singer and dancer he gains a reputation for his smooth dancing and graceful movements, but unknown to him in Rivendell, Elrond is told by the valor about his grandchild, the Elfling thought lost when his adopted daughter died from Voldemort. Seeing this vision, he contacts Legolas, Aragorn, the Twins Elladan and Elrohir, Gandalf and Glorfindel. Sending them all to Earth to track down and possibly bring home the last Elfling ever born. But with Harry's dark past haunting him, people hunting him and wizards wanting to use him, will the elf, 'who looks to be in his twenty's' accept the bond that will come from the elf Legolas, his true soul-mate and accept he is no more tainted by humans and filth as he has led himself to believe.

Genre: Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter Crossover

**Warnings**: Death, flashbacks, corny plot, etc, etc…(lol)

_Pairing_: Legolas/Harry

Disclaimer: I do not own or make money from this fiction or I wouldn't be broke.

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_Prologue: It Begins_

Slow breathing came from between tiny pink lips, whilst long black strands of hair, at least down to his waist; swung gently from side to side, therein green eyes, usually sparkling like gems were dulled, half lidded as he listened to the sweet sound of his naneth's humming, as she sang him a wordless lullaby; only her lips moving in tandem with the hidden message within the song. Tiny fists, no bigger than a fifth of his mothers hand size; were tightly fisted within the silken tunic that she had worn for this day; for, soon enough, whether it be an hour or two; a portal would open to admit herself, the one she held and her soul-bonded, to the wonderful lands of the other world; her truest home and birth place.

Green eyes, similar to the ones he held, glowed with pride and everlasting love; as she tilted her head down and nuzzled into the silken locks of her first-born; the youngest grandchild to the one they were going to see; lips pulled into a breathless smile, as the bond seemed to twinge, whilst vague feelings of pride and happiness filtered through to her. Lifting her gaze, long red locks of hair slipping from her face; she caught the brown of the ones across from her, a tiny smile lighting his features, whilst he watched the beautiful moment between mother and child; for not many a time, had his beloved been able to spend with her child, himself included and it had began to show; as the light that seemed to shine from both, had began to wane.

Walking over to the two of them, the slowly ran a single finger down his beloved's face; taking in her flawless features of one of the elder, whilst she gazed back at him, contentment within every fibre of her being. Her body rocked unconsciously, keeping her child calm as she crooned to him; singing without words of blazing fires in a widened hall of marble, where singing and dancing of stories took place, whilst figures danced and laughed in joy.

The male laughed, eyes dancing, as he also were taken in by the soundless wonders she had to offer; as well as looking foreword in presenting himself to those he would be kin too, and also knowing, his first-born would be received with great joy and praise, as celebration would echo across the land for many a sunset. Drawing his arms around the two most precious to him, brown eyes lovingly gazed upon the child; as the two swayed in a dance to music they could only hear, the purest of bonds shining brightly, but unluckily…for one last time.

His head snapped up, body rigid as brown eyes flashed with the knowledge of the broken power, that was once protecting himself and his kin; stepping back from her form, whilst worried green eyes followed him, he gazed upon the image the child and mother made, before nodding once, jaw clenched. She understood immediately, stepping backwards as she automatically adjusted the child within her protective arms; green eyes flared dangerously, as she locked eyes for one singular second, both knowing they may not survive the night against the being that sort their annihilation.

Unbeknown to both, within his naneth's protective presence, similar green eyes with an astounding amount of intelligence for his age, watched silently; not realising that with his awakened presence, something would change his destiny and life forevermore. Bitterness gathered within her form, as she reached foreword with a hand and clasped her mates, holding desperately, knowing inside of her somehow that they would not live to see the next sunrise; weather it was from her heritage or just one of her many powers, she knew that foresight was a curse and gift to have, though at this time, she hated it with her whole being.

The male gave a bittersweet smile to her, detangling his fingers from her own he flicked his hand foreword and let his wand rest within his palm; giving her one last long look, to preserve their faces within his mind, he turned towards the only doorway into the main room and the staircase to the bedrooms. She hugged her child to her breast, running up the stairs on fleet feet; knowing she would not have long to secure her child would survive against the coming darkness, which wished to snuff his young life out for good.

The splintering of the main door, whilst she shut the nursery door sent chills down her spine, only seconds left to act she began to cast against the shut door; the musical language burdened with magic, wound around the wooden entrance forcing it shut and giving her time to cast the main spell she needed, for the magic she had wrought would hold at bay many of the darker curses but could only hold up to so much.

Shifting the child from her grasp, she placed him down into his crib and was horrified to realise that her child had seen, and if his gaze was anything to go by, understood what was happening; she had always known that he was special, but to have actual understanding of the world around him at the age of one summers would be traumatising for the child.

Green eyes met green, as mother and child stared at each other, then with a whispered apology to her child; she slipped off the woollen shirt he adorned, to bear his pale skin to her eyes. Lifting her fingers to her mouth, she bit into the tips of all her fingers and thumb on both hands; wincing as blood immediately welled and dribbled down her skin, she got to work, drawing runes into her child's body and watching as with each finished rune they sank into the skin, hissing as they burned deeply into the cells. She hated to do this to her only child, as his screams pounded in her sensitive ears; but she would not stop for the safety and life of her child, depended on these runes that were searing his very soul.

Silent tears fell down her face, as she finally finished the runes and whispered apologies her son could not hear, for the magic had begun to work; the oldest of blood-magic's within both this and the other world, was again evoked. Her head bowed, red strands falling over her strained face, as her own magic began to leave her body; flowing from the runes that had been carved, not only onto her own body but her mates as well.

It was one of the oldest and darkest of blood-magic, carving into the givers body and blood marking the receivers body with the runes, the receiver would not only gain all the magic and power of the giver; but also would awaken any abilities that had become diluted over the many generations. But it was dangerous, if the receivers body was weaker than the givers; the magic could potentially drain all parties and destroy even the soul of all that is involved with the transferral. Though if successful, the receiver will for a time, become invulnerable to all attack of a magical nature and reflect it against the caster.

This is what she had been hoping for, silently she watched through pain glazed eyes, as her child's body began to emit a faint golden glow over his usual silver one; the screams trailed off, and clenched green eyes blinked open, sniffing in misery as he stared up at his life-giver and nurturer. She flinched as the barrier around the door finally collapsed, the magic clearly too powerful for the protective power she had used over the structure; blasting inwards, the robed figure strode foreword, a frown upon his features, as he pointed his wand at the troublesome woman beside the crib.

She turned, a defiant scowl upon her face, as she held a knife she had slipped from its sheaf, from under the crib, her muscles tensed, anger and fear warring in her eyes, as green eyes locked with red; his black hair seemed to stiffen as a sneer passed his features in disgust for the elegant creature, that was still an unearthly beauty even within pain. She could feel the fear of her care-giver(1), but knew she had no time to say anything to him, or even to reassure him of what was happening; a single tear of pure white slipped down her pale face, a clear sign of death coming to pass, as she lunged at the man who had become a monster.

Underneath the star lit sky, on a moonless night, within an unassuming two-story home, a sudden high pitched scream was heard before suddenly cutting off, as with a seemly silent 'poof' of energy, the house erupted in flames; within that fire, at the centre of the wreckage, was a glowing ball of energy flashing between the colours of green and red, untouched by the flames and growing wreckage as the house fell around the ball, never touching yet at the same time forming a secure cocoon around whatever was inside.

At the same time, within another land and time, clasped hands suddenly tensed, as grey eyes snapped open in sudden grief; head lifted with braids slowly coming undone and falling around his fair face, whilst lips firmed into a thin line, silent tears tracking down his face. But what was the most prominent feature of the fair being, was not his long black hair that was done in braids, nor was the grey eyes which were unusual for even the most common man; no it was the delicate pointed ears that informed all of his regal heritage, Elvin kind, one of the fair folk of fairytale told to most young children within the other world.

Eyes slid shut, hands covered his face as he cried for the child he had taken in, raised and let free long ago and the mate of his child who he would never see, or welcome within his home; a thought drifted within his mind, trying to garner his attention but the elf was too grief stricken to think clearly, for if he had allowed that thought to blossom, the following years may have been all the easier, for not only himself but one who was left behind. For one child, harsh would be his life, but the rewards of the future? Who knows…

_End Prologue_

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1. This is saying that she and the one who raised her before sending her to practice magic in the magical world have a bond with each other that transcends time and space. They can feel each others heightened emotions as well as anyone else that is family including grandchildren and so on.

_**Elven - Human**_

Naneth's – Mother's

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Well you've got part of chapter one here as well, I will be trying to write more for it, but when I eventually put up the fic, I'll be putting up the completed thing, it'll be a resolution of mine once all the fics I've got up done…

Well go and enjoy chapter one too in this bundle.

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_Chapter 1: Remembrance of Pain_

_Green eyes fearfully cast side to side, the whites prominent in his fright as pale skin pressed firmly against the stone wall, his retreat blocked by man made means; lank strands of hair, dirty and bloody, hung around his gaunt face, framing the delicate features, which still showed him as pretty, even with a malnourished body, that had not seen food in over an age. Pointed ears twitched, whilst the sound of grating metal came to his ears, delicate hearing clearly making out sounds of sliding and clanking chains, while booted feet thumped against the floor in a steady rhythm. _

_They were coming again; the ones who loved to see crimson stains spread across the floor, flesh being torn under barbed whips, screams of the tormented, as salt is driven into searing flesh and the cracking of bones, as they splintered whilst being torn in the wrong direction. The ones who masked their faces under silver, thus seemed to stare in delight and hunger for the helpless fight that soon left their slaves; for that is all they were, slaves to the masters, of mask and black cloak._

_His head jerked upwards, while he winced at the bright light that suddenly flared into the cell he occupied, the rusted lock gave a squeal as it was opened and the door creaked loudly as it opened, permitting his tormenters in once more; but this time they had something…more in mind. He turned his gaze upon them, and terror overcame him once again, as with a dark chuckle they moved into the cell, chains waving with their movement as they reached for him; gazing upon them, something drew his attention, looking upon the new sight he felt pure and utter terror well up within him and at the moment they grabbed him a blood-curling scream escaped his lips._

Eyes drifted open, the green iris's dulled with the thoughts of his…memories that still haunted his every waking moment; lifting his head, bags falling into his eyes, he allowed the words of his song to drift from his soul, singing to the masses with a haunting melody, that drew them in and sent them catering to his every will. Letting go of the singular balcony railing, which he had grabbed to steady himself; he slowly descended to the platform, which cut across the room from one side to the other; swaying in a hypnotic dance, whilst words of blood, hurt, death, rebirth, hate and anger passed his lips and sent the crowd into a frenzy of excitement, heat, lust and crazed dancing.

The beat of drums, sound of the guitar and melody of the piano drew him along for the ride, for he was not the master but the slave, who catered to the whims of the people and sung for them to take and tear apart; his unearthly beauty drew them in, his sad aura captured them, but his dying emerald eyes made them want to take him for themselves. He was unbound, enraptured by no-one, yet searching for one spark of life that he could finally find peace within; yet nothing had shown him the light he searched for.

The song trailed off, sending the masses into an even greater high, a demand for an encore was chanted throughout the hall, yet without a backwards glance, the leather clad figure walked away, ignoring the cries and calls; his own personal hell had already clamed him long ago and he cared not for what anyone else wanted, for death was his partner and life, his curse, thus with each passing year his light grew dimmer.

Stepping around the curtain that separated the crowd from the band, he let his shoulders un-tense, gloved fingers reached up and tucked wayward strands of his longer hair behind delicate pointed ears, whilst his other reached behind and tugged the wound ribbon free; letting the once braid fall free and thigh lengths of hair settled against his back. Though, as he looked upwards at his bags, unlike the long strands of his hair, his bags were as unruly as they had ever been; sticking out in every direction and never growing beyond a certain length, unlike the main portion of his hair, which reached his ass.

A snort escaped him, as he strode down the hallway, green eyes sighting upon his main destination; reaching the cream coloured wood he slid a hand down the panelling and clasped his fist around the cold metal of the handle. Pushing down it gave under his fingers and he slid into the room beyond, the door closing behind him with a soft 'click' which echoed down the empty hallway, whilst the lights seemed to flicker with an ominous feeling.

Leaning against the cool wood, he slid his left hand down and pressed the small button on the handle, to lock the door in effort to keep the others out, knowing they would be concerned with his sudden retreat into his 'sanctuary'; breathing out slowly, his eyes slid half shut, exhausted with the sudden clamour in his mind, of the memories he thought he had shut away for good. Shoulders drooped, as he moved with an exhausted stride into the main room and towards the fireplace; which held some very unusual objects, though you would not think to see within a 'normal' person's room.

A single flowerpot that seemed to hold no value except some strange powder, photographs that were moving, figurines of people that actually moved on their bases and a ring that seemed to have its own glow; beside the fireplace, lying crooked yet still in good nick was a broomstick, faded on the handle were the golden words 'Firebolt', once the fastest of its kind but not in many a year. Green eyes alighted on the flowerpot and he strode over, grabbing a portion of the glittering powder, he chucked it into the still blazing fire, a troubled frown upon his lips.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London, Sirius Black…" The flames flared green; he knew it could be a while before the man could make the journey through from his home, until then the young man knew he had to keep himself calm even with the memories trying to overwhelm him. Moving over to the bed that dominated most of the room, he sank down onto its soft coverings; the cotton moulding to his body as he lay back, curling into the familiar scents and feelings of the room around him.

The truth, he hated what he actually was, being a creature that was not meant to exist was difficult enough as it was, but with what came along with it? It was pure torture for him; part-Elven that he was, from pointed ears and unearthly beauty, there was also the unseen effects of his species. Empathy to the people around him, a need to be out surrounded by nature; un-seeming grace that became more natural as the years went by and lastly, the shine of light, which shone from within him in the darkest of places.

It was his Empathy, which had caused the most problems and in the end, damage from his younger years as a elfling; feeling the torment and pain of the other occupants and not being able to heal them had caused great distress for him, it had torn at his soul. Knowing he was trapped, unable to ease their passing and in being so close, a piece of him was dragged into the darkness of death; each time another passed onto into the shadows.

But lately another ability had started to manifest within him, flashes of certain things that would happen and then would actually happen had begun to occur to the elf, it actually frightened him, as he began to see further and further into the future for longer periods of time; never for himself but always for the others around him. The elf was helpless when he had these 'visions' and had to ride them out until the end, seeing the end result unless he changed the coming event, though nine times out of ten, the situation became much worse than better for the receiver of the vision and many times, ended up with death on the part-Elven's hands.

This 'foresight' ability was dangerous, he had no control over the visions and now it seemed he was beginning to actually feel what would happen to the receiver of the vision; many times he had awoken to find himself bleeding, cut, bruised and even have a broken bone or two. Green eyes, gazing dully into nothing slid completely shut, a sigh of pure exhaustion leaving him, not even the banging on the door of the room and familiar voices of his long time band mates and friends, would move him from his self-imposed isolation…

He was dying, slowly but surely, he was fading and no-one knew; even though he had his godfather, uncle, adopted-grandfather and unknowing to him, a true grandfather, many uncles and an aunt, who would welcome him with open arms. He had hid the truth of his soul behind many barriers and masks; allowing the deterioration of his true self, until there was only a shadow of himself left. If someone could see into the truest self, of any one person or being and looked upon the broken elf, they would find a soul with many cracks upon it, bleeding red rivets of pain, sorrow and hate; parts would be stitched with blackness, which was spreading like a disease, while the whiteness of his Elven heritage was dampened and even totally gone, leaving gaping holes in which would not heal.

The truth was, the young yet old child was screaming, it was not heard or seen, for he smiled and laughed, but inside was screaming, searching for that other half that would not only complete him, but help anchor him to this plane of existence and actually heal; it seemed though, that there was a limited time for him. The curse that was placed upon him, was slowly ripping apart his being and only his true soulmate could save his life. A breath left his lips and he drifted between waking and sleep, tired yet not wanting to dream, as memories could then take hold; the elf tried to keep the peace he had found, but his body was exhausted and he drifted away, his mind opening once more.

_Tears fell silently down his cheeks, terrified he huddled as the back of the dark room, just enough room for him to curl in the corner as far away as he could get, knowing the people that had been invited into the house were nothing but evil; if the feelings of pleasure and sick entertainment he got from them over his relatives screams and cries were any indication. The soft fur of the cuddly toy, was the only comfort he had and not even that was helping to ward off the shivers of fear and nausea, he had running through him; then suddenly he sat upright, his back straight, eyes wide, as something 'wrenched' inside his chest. _

_He screamed, the whites in his eyes only showing, as green eyes rolled back into his head, short black hair was sticking to his sweating skin as he collapsed on his side; body jerking as though something was trying to rip apart his flesh, whilst red ran down his chin, as hands clenched into his hair, almost ripping it in his terror and fear. In his mind, his aunt appeared slowly, fading into existence facing him, blood was covering her form and she shook like she had been drinking and could not control herself; her wide ones caught his own and then she smiled, the pain leaving her face and peace softened her expression; she looked at him for one long second, and whispered something that he could not hear before she faded once more. _

_*Run…* He was jolted out of his vision, as a harsh hand clenched into his hair and wrenched him into the air, dangling from the clenched fist as his vision cleared, and he looked for the first time at the tormentors of his 'family' and felt a chill go down his spine as he looked into the females crazed black eyes. _

"_We widdle-potty boy are going to have so much fun." With that she gave a sickening and sharp edged grin; it was then, the child knew he was in far deeper trouble than he could imagine._

Eyes snapped open, green iris's flashing with instinctual movement, as he rolled over the bed and flung the hand that had been going to touch him away, in the midst of his confused and sleep blanketed mind; the distant sound of a body hitting the wall came to the elf, whilst he got up into a crouching position, magic sparking the tips of his fingers in a threatening manoeuvre. Everything had stilled, he panted strands of black hair sticking to face and neck, as the young man tried to find some semblance of order within his confused mind; against the far wall, grey eyes wary yet concerned, as black hair fell over his face, Sirius Black carefully stood, not wanting to startle the elf again.

"Harry?" Green eyes slowly cleared from the dream like state that the part-Elvin had been caught up within, turning his head slowly, strands of his long hair covering one side of his face as he locked with grey and he came to realise the one that had been attacked was no threat to his own.

"Sirius…" His voice was quiet, guilt only just heard before it was covered up by the young mans voice, which seemed to have a sudden singing quality to it; something that Harry had been provident at even when young. Black brows furrowed in annoyance, even as his eyes surveyed over the thin and tired looking elf, who in truth was still a child, a teen elf which had not yet had his inheritance which would mark him an adult in all eyes.

End?

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Well haven't gotten any further in chapter one just yet, truthfully I got stuck after this point, all I wrote was little drabbles and short pieces that were going to add in later… anyhoo here's the little drabble pieces too, I had too much fun with them as you will see *grins* (_huggles my elvin'harry_) mine!

Also in the part in chapter one where Harry is singing? It's one of 'Poets of the Fall' songs. Don't ask me which one, I like them all hehe

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**Hermione is upset/ Harry thinks outloud.**

SMACK! The sound vibrated down the hallway, pale skin flushed red from the sudden hit of hand meeting flesh, his right eye closed shut as the other green eye looked blankly out, as though expecting the sudden change in manner from a person who was a friend and confident; she was heaving, lips pressed together thinly as brown eyes flashed angrily at the young man who had taken a punishment that currently others did not think he deserved.

An enraged snarl came to her from the part-Elvin's left side and grabbed her left arm, lifting her clearly off her feet as she struggled against the inhuman grip, clearly having forgotten about the usage of magic, though doubtfully it would have done much good against them. In front of Harry, the twins had taken position, eerily looking alike even more than the weasly twins as they frowned, each respective hand upon their swords; a clear indication that next time action would be taken.

"Mela?" The blond elf laid a hand upon the silken ripped top of the other in front of him, "Harriden?" A worried frown was upon his face as he tugged the other to turn towards him, taking in the blank look that was faced towards the stone flooring of the young Elvin's school and home.

"It's strange… But I somehow expected the reaction of the human female. So many have used me, why not the Wizards as well?" Green eyes slid up and met the blonds own, weariness clear.

"To not have faded, I must have been waiting; for you…"

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**After a (mysterious-I-don't-know-what) battle…**

Eyes gritted shut, teeth clenched together as his right arm trembled; pain shot from all areas of his right handed flesh, from which crimson streams raced down the hanging part-Elvin's body, making his grip even more tedious. The only thing keeping him from falling into the unknown below? Tip of his fingers and his right hand which was caught within a branch which was slowly and surely breaking loose from the soil and following his body.

The pain of that root wrapped around the fragile wrist, way beyond comprehension; no matter he had broken bones, ripped flesh, spilt blood and torn muscle. The slow agonising tear of his flesh and muscle was more than his nerves could take; his hand was slowly going numb and Harry knew, the minute that he lost all feeling, his precarious grip on the edge of the abyss would faultier and the tips of his fingers which were keeping him aloft would slide loose, dropping him to death or worse.

Lifting his head, eyelids slipped open half mast, dulled green iris's staring blankly outwards into the fog; seeming almost to take forever to his senses, he soon locked eyes onto the ledge above him and felt the last of his hope erase itself from his mind. Where the part-Elvin had thought to grasp the ledge next to his prone hand, now came a problem; it seemed where he gripped on the jagged and rough stone, was a few inches beneath the actual cliff edge. He was in-fact hanging onto the side of the cliff, not the top and without assistance, there would no rescue and miraculous saving his hide this time; lady luck it seemed, had finally left him for good.

Still he had to try, gritting his teeth even more and hearing them grind against the other, gave him strength to throw his other hand upwards, fingertips scrabbling at the dirt and rock and causing bits of other rocks to loosen and fall; his nails began to bleed as they pulled in his desperate attempt to save his life, when a sudden sound came to him, it was the cracking of roots from the main plantation. Eyes only had enough time to dart over to see his right wrist and widen in horror, when the plant came loose from the dirt; the same time, due to throwing himself up as he had, left him flying backwards both hands almost reaching to the cliff edge as he fell away into the fog.

Long strands of his loose hair whipped into his face as he twirled in the air, slowly shifting until he was facing feet downwards, no matter if he hit the bottom or not; he wanted to be standing for his demise, but it seemed the lady had not left him; minutes after that thought went through Harry's mind, he hit the ground and fell over, a wide eyed stare upon his face as his thoughts attempted to catch up with his body.

'_Not dead…?_' Pushing himself slowly upwards onto his knees, he looked upwards at the place he had fallen and felt a drop of sweat roll down the side of his face.

'_I…I was only…two meters…FROM THE GROUND_!' Disbelief shot through him as he stared at this pheromone that had occurred.

'_Oh for fucks sake. Very funny. Veeerrrrry funny_.' He snorted as he slowly got up to his feet, swaying, torn clothes moving with his flayed body as best they could in their ragged state. Huffing, he looked around to try to recognise the area he was within.

'_Ok I've got to find the others, knowing the prince; he's going to have lost it by now._' Sighing, he began to move away from the ledge he thought had been a cliff and went the opposite direction, pretty sure in his mind that some-one was laughing at him somewhere.

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**Later Chapter – Earth Segment**

He slid a hand down the cold stone, fingertips moving along the engravings of the one who had died an earths rotation ago, darkened green eyes gazed as though into nothing as he carefully reminded himself of the guilt and suffering he had to endure for the kinship death he had caused. Lips were pressed firm, the leather trousers creaking slightly as he shifted backwards, now fully balanced on the balls of his feet and not his hands and knees.

-Death upon you, I brought to thee, I suffer in penance, til to the heavens you rest. I punish my sin, my life in vain, to yours it belongs, till I fade away.- With that his head bowed, the 'current' braid of black hair slipping from his shoulder and pooling in-front of him.

-To this my vow, I give a sign, a promise of word and action, which thy are vision to. Take it now, make me suffer, for I still live, while thou died for my blunder.- Sliding his left hand backwards, he awkwardly slipped the dagger from it's residing place upon his right side and brought it foreword, his braid held within his right a good four inches still loose from the end of the tie.

-Take this offering, of blood and flesh, bound in misery, thy to know I repent for my deed. Sacrifice my pride, cut away my bonds, leaving me without honour, for thy the lost one.- Lifting the dagger, the blade gleaming as though imbued with a faint light, Harry sliced it through the midnight strands of hair, leaving them to drift in the wind to the ground, the shine upon them dulling until nothing was left, it now looked dead and worthless, as always or so it seemed to the part-Elvin.

Now having finished the rite which the young man performed every full moon, he let the dagger drop, the blade hitting the ground with the sound of dulled metal, whilst pale hands clasped together in-front of him, head against his palms as he preyed, his inner light just a little dimmer as though the rite he performed took a part of him with it to the one he repented to.

Then he tensed, still not used to anyone touching him without him knowing; slim fingers rubbed gently against the silk like top, before the occupier crouched down behind the part-Elvin and curled long arms around his smaller form. The others head came to rest on his shoulder, blond strands not tied in the braids of the warrior, falling over his arms and chest. Lips caressed the tip of his ear, making him shiver slightly from the sensation as he turned his face into the others tunic, a similar pointed ear brushing his forehead as he curled into the warriors form.

"Hebo estel. Ten' gorga il, Im sinome mela." Hearing those words, for the first time since these strangers had entered his world and torn it apart, he felt a part of him finally click back into place and realised, that maybe to be healed, he needed to find his true place of belonging, no matter which world it was in.

_Have hope. For fear not, I am here love. = Hebo estel. Ten' gorga il, Im sinome mela._

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Hope you enjoyed, those segments have to be the best I say, the next I'll put up is another ff7/hp I'm stuck on, it was suppost to help my current block with 'Dimention Traveller' but no I got stuck on that one too, hn.

Oh yeh: **(If you wanna use any of the fics you see me putting up? Just send me a PM ^_^)**


	3. People or Monsters Which is which? HPOC

Ok don't know what I was thinking, this came to me a few times when I got round to thinking about an 'infected' harry, it went along these lines: what if harry was infected, but his magic not only allowed him to keep a human appearance but also let him keep his mind? So yeh, a harry with no humanity, but with a very deadly mind and reflexes of a hunter along with the package.

* * *

**Title**: People or Monsters… Which is which?

_Summery_: It was strange, was his distant thought; at how indifferent his situation was now, to about a year back. How he had found peace among those called 'monsters' than what was once his own kind.

Warnings: Slight Slash Fluff if you search, dark minds, blood, and general darkness lol

**Genre**: Left for Dead, Harry Potter Crossover

_Pairing_: Tall-Male(smoker)/Harry(hunter)

Disclaimer: I don't own, nor make money from any of these fandoms (I wish)

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'_Humans find the unique strange and decadent, they love to find what reasons they can to destroy all that is different, to have everything the same'. The one who had made that prediction? Oh how right they were, how she was and is and will be..._

He sat gazing down at the humans moving below, curiosity and some amusement seeping through his veins, distant yet quite clear to his conscious mind; tilting his head, he grinned a feral grin at the tall one, a huffing breath wheezing out of their throat, while shoulders shook in apparent amusement at whatever though had passed their mind.

A chirrup of curiosity came from the crouched female, hood currently swept back off tangled curls, as reddish-golden-blue watched the two, curious at what had made them happy as they were. Clicking teeth, a clear signal, which no words were to pass his throat; a pout formed over reddened lips, sharp fangs with a crimson overtone, clear, as sharp-pointed-ears flicked and her attention turned to the far door. Seeing the younger's attention was currently distracted, he looked himself and was pleased to find, another of his pack-mates, had finally returned.

Unfocused eyes surveyed the scene they made, amusement upon slim lips; she strode into the calm atmosphere, bottle-cap-earrings swinging with her every footstep and the plastic bag of, from what he could smell in the air, fresh meat, moved towards the kitchen area of the den, which was currently attached to the living room where they all currently rested.

A coo came from the female, hunger from her rushing through his own veins, it ignited his own hunger and, from the groan the tall-one made, he was also responding to their younger compatriots hunger. Growling, he shook himself, the hood of his own sweatshirt falling back, crumpling against his neck; whilst black wavy tangled hair, fell against/in-front his face, framing his features against the cool air. Pushing himself with his back feet, he struggled into a standing position, the tall-male steadying his balance with a careful hand against the small of his back; huffing with frustrated breath, the wavering male on his feet, stumbled into the kitchen area of the den and slumped down on the stool, which had been pulled out for occasions such as this.

Silent laughing came to him again, looking over at the tall-male, he watched with slight concern as the other broke down into heaving coughs, mucus, blood and saliva dripped from the curled up fist in-front his face, as the right one pressed weakly against the wall; strength was more or less gone in that arm, the continued illness, which had struck more than a year ago, had taken its toll on all of them, though in many different ways.

The coughing soon subsided, harsh breaths heard in the silent atmosphere, both eyes were currently shut, the skin wrinkled as pain flicked through their face, his body was leaning on his left side against the wall, his other-side slightly limp, as though too much weight to hold up; truth be told, slowly the other had been loosing his movement in that side of his body, oh, when he was sitting/lying down the other was fine, could move like any normal person, but on his feet, it was like that side was much heavier than the rest of his body and caused him to have to shuffle along, dragging his right side. The other part that was also was affected was his face, his right eye was always half closed now, the cornea glazed over with a reddish film, that 'the other had said' gave him an infra-red vision and could track heated bodies, especially those filled with fear. His mouth was similarly effected, the right-side seemed to hang and he could not smile, grin, frown or anything, that side was just 'separate' from the rest of him, though he had no trouble giving out half-smiles with his left side.

What was the most 'interesting' part about the tall-male, was the fangs behind his lips, and the hidden weapon within his jaw, he had never seen it, but according to the other, it was the most vital part to protect himself and if needs be, to gain 'living' food; he was insanely curious, but would never betray the other to just sate his curiosity. A yelp escaped his throat, as he went head over heals, the stool skittering off, as it bounced and rolled from the sudden force; huffing in bewilderment, he lay upon his back, a giggle coming from his mid-section, looking down, he met the eyes of the brown-head, the black hooded female sat with a grin on her currently bloody lips and teeth, as she rocked back and forth in amusement. Narrowing his own in playfulness, he swiped at her with his claws, knowing she would be able to skitter away in time; snorting in amusement and irritation, he gnashed his teeth in reaction to her swiping at him and made her hunch back with a yelp.

Snarling, he moved on all fours to the tall-mans side and settled with his face against their leg, eyes slipping shut. Hunger clenched in his belly, but at that moment, he was content, though hearing a plate being placed in-front of him caught his attention; slipping open eyelids a slit, he looked upon the young woman who had sat down in-front of him, legs crossed over once another upon her thighs, she had her own plate balanced on them.

"Harry." His attention snapped to her, hearing that dreaded name pass her lips meant that something clearly was going on, as she would have normally used a nickname which he had earned.

"Little hunter, the turkeys of the nest, the ones so ridden of false light, have caught on to you and using snickens, have found our path. Also, the night users of darkness have also caught on, and are finding easier laucks, to find you too." Harry, with narrowed eyes, thought over what she had said, if what she had said was true, then:

-_So Luna, The order of the phoenix, and the Death Eaters of Darkness, have finally caught on have they? They have finally found my pathway_?- A dark smile passed his features, swiping his hand foreword, he speared the bloody piece of meat on the end of his claws, clamping his jaws into it, Harry felt blood splatter into his mouth, over his lips and down his chin; ripping a chunk off, he swallowed it, eyes half-lidded as pure satisfaction and some distant, dark instinct, of ripping into something/someone was slightly appeased, with cool blood covering him and meat slithered its way down his throat to his stomach.

He could feel the others, their feelings passed to him though the bonds in his mind, giving him their own 'slight' satisfaction of getting their claws and teeth into some kind of meat; but deep inside, burning in their very souls, a beast clawed for freedom, to hunt, to kill, to slice, rip, tear, hear the crying screams of its dying prey and relish in the blood sliding down its throat.

-_Nay, we shall not run, we are hunters, once human, but changed to something better; I shall enjoy hearing their screams as I tear them apart, and know that when it finally hits them, that they had no chance, they shall scream in the realization, that none of them knew the truth_.- He met that of the others, of tall-males calm gaze; of black strands curling around his face, as a leather jacket fell to mid-body, a white tee-shirt coated brown from dried blood and jeans covered skinny legs and trainers upon bare feet. To the younglings mixed colour gaze of excitement; with a black hoodie that was twice as big on her frame, white leggings on her legs and bare feet covered in the same brownish colour mixed with fresh red as her hands/claws. Luna's gaze was next, distant yet not, with amusement and hardness clear in the distant orbs; ripped pyjama trousers hung on her hips, while a baggy dark rainbow coloured shirt hung on her frame; on her feet were sandals, opened toed ones that were a bright red and went well with her 'uniqueness'.

Shifting in his own spot, green-reddish-golden eyes turned towards the window, tensing thighs, which were covered over in darkish coloured leggings, he jumped over to the window, with had the glass currently missing; wind blew the black hooded, grey sweatshirt and shifted black strands, as grey-tinged-skin twitched at the pleasant chill, he turned back towards the other three, a demented grin pasting across his features, which they all met with their own.

-_The truth that they lost a long time ago and now only 'hell' awaits them_.-

End?

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So what you think? I enjoyed having a vision of a hunter harry, ripping through the dark lords ranks, or even all of Great Briton ^_^ hehe

Oh yeh, the four have a mental link here, i'm not sure what the other two would be like, but the female hunter would have been hyper, I know that much and also very happy too, the male? I had a thought about him being the calmer of the four, like the peacemaker when they all drive each other up the wall.

This would have started out around the time the green-flu got out by that comapny (can't remember), Harry's relatives would have been killed though a shooting of some kind and Harry gets bitten somewhere (not knowing where), where he would go through a 'slow' change, (i've always had a theory that the special infected take a longer amount of time to develop, sort of like a change from catapilla to butterfly thingy except your awake...) meets the others, connects to them and saves them from turning feral like the others due to his magic, Luna finds them, takes them to Briton, and then we have the scene above. I think at this stage, the mentality of the hunter is really beginning to settle into Harry's mind, plus Luna is beginning to change with 'exposure' to harrys tainted magic. Well thats my theory anyhow.

Thats it now, if you've got any questions if you want to use the plot? Just send a message and i'll send everything i've got in mind.

_**(If you wanna use any of the fics you see me putting up? Just send me a PM ^_^)**_


	4. Curse of the Centra l FF7HP

Don't ask me what prompted this one, I have no clue, but it's another work in progress that I found on my hard-drive, so I add it now to my collection of 'fics to finish one-day' It does not help I'm on a fix of Bleach again, go Urahara/Ichigo! *grins*

But anyhow, this was started when I got into that fix with my other crossover 'Dimention Traveller' it's a side by side fic to help me write the other one and it is certainly helping, things that won't go into my other fic will go into this one, plus its gonna be a lot more angst than my normal fics, oh well who doesn't like a slightly pissed Harry? Not really on the depressive battalion myself (I need to though for my other fics. Anyhow read and tell me what ya think.

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**Curse of the Centra**

_Part Summery_: Battle of wizards destroyed their world, a new land rises as corrupt as the last, arises an enemy from times past, with a hero once known to save the Centra's last.

_Full Summery_: Past shadow and future darkness combine, to raise a devastating weapon which was created from the final battle of the Wizards world. But destroyed were they, their people and their world; nothing left save fire, flesh, blood, bone and death. Then a new world corrupt as the last, raised from the ashes of times past, is cast upon a new world; within this utopia arises a old-yet-new enemy, while an old champion is found and the war begins again.

**Genra**: FF7(all) & HP

_Pairings_: Not known

**Main Characters**: Harry Potter, Sephiroth, Angeal, Genesis, Zack Fair, Cloud Strife, Tsang, Reno, Rude, Rufus Shinra, Hojo, Vincent Valentine, Mother Gaia, Weapons, Earth Spirit, _(incomplete list)_

_Side Characters_: Elena, Palmer, Scarlett, President Shinra, Rest of the Turks, Reeve, _(incomplete list)_

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**Prologue**: _Fate is fickle, if it likes you…_

I'm beginning to wonder, after so long at living; is it worth fighting to survive. Fate can throw multitudes of tests against you, leaving very little chance to survive, or even to come out unscathed from the collisions of battles, which can leave gaping holes within the soul, like when ones you love die. Most people would be torn apart, if not by body, by mind; broken to the basic instincts that rule all creatures upon this gracious earth. They are reabsorbed into the system and repossessed to try again, all to enter the sanctity of the other land… Heaven, gods realm, underworld, life-stream, promised land, afterlife; all these are the one place that humans want to succeed, and, some gain the gift.

But for others, the tests are much more dangerous, they not only wager your mind and body, but the most precious of your physique, the very core of your being, the soul; fate has those precious few, which are reborn again and again, and with each successive pass…the tests get harder. You never remember your past tests, they are shrouded in darkness, with only the feeling that perhaps, fate is conspiring against you, then maybe life has it out for you, or the best one, trouble is drawn to you like a moth to flame.

Most fail, in some form or another, and they are discarded as nothing more than failures, in the fates and planets plan…yes the planet, before you say that the planet is nothing more than a hunk of rock, that has no feeling, no pain and is there to be used as you wish, YOU. ARE. WRONG!

I know all to well, that the planet is like any creature upon the planet, it feels pain, it cries when hurt, it cares for those who care for it and it 'kills' those who would abuse its gift; why do you think that the planet sends tornado's and earthquakes after 'human' cities, for humans are the ones that are damaging and disregarding the very earth, as though it is a dead thing.

No the planet is very well alive, and many very well know this, but do not remember; and thus its fury when it finally gave up on the human race, and the home they called 'planet earth' was nothing that could be anticipated.

I can still feel it, the pain and fury that the spirit felt, as it destroyed the very ones it had created; by removing all life and passing on into the stars, to begin anew on a different place altogether, to try and stop the mistakes that had been made. For this was my 'gift', which I won with the passing of all fates tests; I went through hell, the same past tests many others had gone through, I was put through all and after all that, I survived; on the brink yes, but still I survived, barely. Because, if you pass all the tests that fate and the planet has put down for you, they give you a gift of one thing, long life; not immortality, that is an impossibility, but long lasting life or as someone once called it, 'un-aging life' they had it exact, I lived and the planet decided to keep me.

You see, my test was different, I had a dark lord to kill, and I had to do it without methods that would hurt the world I was on, for I had a secret, one that I kept to myself and hated with a passion. I was, or what has been named in this day and age, a centra, an ancient; a 'specimen' of an ancient civilization that moved from planet to planet as we 'travelled the stars'…_what utter bullocks! If I ever got my hands on that scientist I would ring his scrawny neck (though a bit hard now he's deader than a doornail truthfully)_; uh anyhow, it was a case of having no choice, the planet was dying and didn't want to loose it's 'true' child, so I was chosen to become the avatar; I would not only help ready the spirit to sail the stars, but also to ferry all the souls, within my own, follow to our new home and sleep until I am needed. I became, and I quote 'the chaos of the world, from which the sleeper becomes the harbinger of death, to which the world's souls will be harvested to bring about ragnarok and travel the stars, to begin life anew…'

This was the true fate that was install for me, I would become not only the last creature alive from the earth, but also become a 'weapon', a creature that keeps the balance and sets events in motion that have been laid ready since the beginning of time itself. They co-exist with one another, always intertwining and dancing around one another, and I would become a part of that dance; fates favourite, deaths avatar and the planets protector, a creature of true magic, which would come to me only in my need.

But perhaps I've rambled on long enough, I've taken up enough of your time; to understand the true story I speak of, you need to read and see the events that passed to make this happen, for my journey was only beginning the day the earth died. I had no clue what was to pass and perhaps its better that way, cause as it is said, if events are predetermined, you will try to change your fate, no matter how good the outcome; for it is a human nature to meddle.

Why I do not know, we are complex creatures that have a fascination for everything, yet are frightened of what we do not know, we destroy things that terrify us and entrap those that entrance us; we are dangerous, yet in a way, harmless. Most times we attack, we don't know how to react and others fight back, leaving nothing but heartache and pain, it's inevitable; but I met people upon the planet named Gaia, a youngster to Earth, which welcomed me and the spirit in exchange for sentient life upon her own. Those few, who I came to care for as my own, I came to trust with more than my life, but my very being as well, but…no, this is not the way to tell you, the story I will tell will give more than mere words which I cannot explain properly; so please, read on…for it not only my account that you will read, but the others as well, enjoy…

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_**Ch1: **__Known Beliefs can Switch Instantly_

It begins on a day that was the end, for that is how most stories end, but for all of us, it was the beginning of everything, from the restart of life, to the liberation of the largest corporation that spread across the world. But that is for later really, I need to go backwards to a time over millions of years, billions, trillions or more; to the time of the planet Earth and the spirit that liberated me, and damned me at the very same time.

The day was difficult, things had fallen apart, we were trapped within our school with no way out, the enemy blocking us in from all sides in the surrounding forest, mountains and water; for the creatures they had gained were formidable, some were even frightening to us, others so beautiful, it hurt to look upon them for fear of seeing ourselves reflected and having a pathetic countenance looking back in return.

The headmaster, Dumbledore, had died the year before leaving us leaderless, and the headmistress took over with the other staff under her; while traitors on the same day he died ran for it, to find places among the dark ones forces called, Death Eaters. I was one of the students, a young child still, only 17 yet fully used to the effects and battles of war, I was the new leader, who all turned to, when all other hope had died.

I wasn't ready, I knew this, they knew this, the dark lord knew this, yet they turned to the only one to ever survive a killing curse as a child, to lead them through the second wizarding war, somehow survive and win against another, who had years more experience than I. Truth to be told, even if I had never mentioned it, or even given a sign, I was frightened; who in their right mind would follow a child or even teenager, to the very bowels of death and back? I know I would not have, yet these people looked up to me as their last hope, and I could not turn them away; so I had to take the mantel of leader, to give even the smallest amount of hope, to all those who were fighting, for the very right to live. But, how was anyone to know, that it was all for naught, my inheritance was late and when it finally showed up, people all over the world knew something was going to shatter their lives…completely.

_:Third Person POV:_

The day was cold, colder than any of us had ever felt it, it was very much like the sky was reflecting our mood at that moment as we all stood within the great hall of the school; hundreds of students and teachers all standing together to face the greatest threat to our existence, and perhaps not more our fear. I was at the head, looking worriedly yet hopefully at the following that had gathered at my back; beside me was a lanky lad, red hair falling around his face and neck, as blue eyes flicked over to my own and a smile tried to flicker upon his face that failed before it formed. Holding hands with the red head, was a brown haired female who was studying a book to sooth her nerves, as she leaned against her mate in silent support; they were my best friends and closest allies that had stood with me through thin and thick, Ron and Hermione, strategist and lieutenant, man and wife, lover and loved, one of the signs unconsciously given from the two, who stood strong in love over all.

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_**Later chapter**_

It was eerie to see, something that was not supposed to exist, that they had all been told about in fairytales and dreams; but to see a living sample, and not a pale imitation which the girl imitated; yet it so clearly showed the differences between the two, that was both disconcerting and yet saddening. The creature, '_clearly male, though the long hair would make one question his sense of right and wrong, if the nude body before him didn't show it blatantly, from the clear view they all had_', was standing, half curled, with tense muscle all rippling with strength and awe of long term fitness; eyes were fastened, with a sense of hesitant and blatant fear, on the professor, and it just made him wonder what one could go through in a short period of time, to put such a look on a face that was clearly serene…usually, '_as he could tell from the lack of wrinkles on the unblemished skin_'.

For, from his profession, he clearly knew different forms of torture and mind delving techniques', that fear could be brought upon those, who were strong not only of mind, but also of body, to submit and become a servant to the one dolling out the punishment, which they had earned in going against the company '_though sometimes he had thoughts of leaving himself, he knew he would disappear, just as soon as one of their own had many a year ago; plus there was stuff he had to finish and people on his side, who clearly had the same views and political management he didn't have, to complete the goals that were beginning to take a foothold'_.

The professor gave a surly laugh, shoulders shaking with some innate amusement he clearly could not comprehend, with the way the others' mind worked, only the downright disturbed who were on the scientists band of psycho's, clearly understood the underlying meaning, to the select few of them gathered. Then, as he shifted his gaze back to the glass tube, that held a form of the mako, which was used in their everyday life; it made him intake a breath, when his own eyes met the eerie green of the other, in the cage of glass.

It had always been thought that the ancients of old, the creatures, who had set their world to the way it was today, were clearly more human and yet not so; the one in-front of them all, looked like something that belonged more on a statue than any living thing, and it made him wary, as green eyes assessed him the same way he did it. Then his body went stiff, defensive senses telling him to attack whilst he stayed frozen, the pupils in the green gaze slitted like a cats, power flowing through that hardened body like a caress and slipping through his, tasting, testing, knowing; in that instant he knew the truth, the three generals, the ones who had been created though nothing but hatred and greed, were products of the same tree as the one in front of him, in the glass of a cage filled with mako of Gaia.

They were not by-products, as thought of a dead race, but one which had fallen into obscurity and shadows, this being was no bringer of piece and traveller of stars, that would create new life on other worlds; these beings were the guardians, chosen at birth to be protectors of life and even avengers of death. They were both, the omega and order of death, but also cosmos and chaos of life; these beings would tear apart the very essence of existence, if it meant the world would survive. There was no other word for it, They. Were. 'Weapons'.

The being looked away, hair sliding to hide their face, as they slumped against the wall, tiredness and something else showing in it's body language. Dark brown eyes that looked black slid shut, his body relaxing once more, as his mind processed all that had been pushed in at once; it was then Tsang knew that things were going to change, for the Centra had waited long enough, their oldest living child was awake, and he now had allies ready to fight at his side, for the future had already begun to alter.

With that thought at hand, the Turk gave one last look at the being resting against the side of the tube, turned, and walked towards the exit of the lab; then in the darkness of the stairwell, Tsang gave a dark smile of satisfaction, for in the future, he knew where he would stand in the coming battle; yes…he would be ready.

**End?**

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_**(If you wanna use any of the fics you see me putting up? Just send me a PM ^_^)**_


	5. Gold and Green l HarryUndertaker

I've got no excuse I know, but I am getting the fics written, just slowly. Anyhow, here's an interesting one I had to write down, came to me a couple of days ago and thought it was interesting enough to write. (Updates below) enjoy the chapter.

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**Title**: Gold and Green

_Category_: Kuroshitsuji/Harry Potter Crossover

**Pairing**: Undertaker(Michi)/Harry(Taiki)

_Warnings_: Character Death, Blood, Descriptive stuff? etc

**Summery**: One was betrayed, killed in another's arms, when they just found love. One hides behind smiles, while another tries to remember, while the killer returns, to finish the job he started, to stop the prophecy which was set into motion.

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Haunting laughter echoed across the bloody field, hundreds to thousands of bodies of all races littering the ground, showing the horror of war far too clearly within this view. Within this mess, was a figure who had just cleaved through another of the hunters, long fingers caressing his weapon with reverence as the man on the end shook his head with desperation, reddish locks coated with the colour of crimson red stuck to the pale skin, as clothes once black started to tear even more from the slight movement of the metal within his skin.

Lips spread in a maniacal amused grin, and with a kiss of flesh to finger, ripped the scythe through the corpse as though it was paper, the magic within the once alive figure doing nothing to help the mans plight, for he was dead, sent off on bloody wings. Giggling in a girly fit of happiness, the young man, yet old soul swung his beloved weapon up into the air, the force of the swing sending the blood off with a splatter, covering his black coat with ever more redness.

This was cut short when a piercing cry echoed across the field, catching his attention while causing the toothy grin to fall to a more sedate small smile, twirling round, a song hummed under his breath, the black and red cloaked being seemed to sashay to the sound which had trailed off into pitiful whimpers, clearly having been the focus of someone's temper, and he had a pretty funny idea of who it was. Coming across the other figure, who was wearing a long red trench coat beyond this time period _(though his own wasn't within the current time regulation either to be truthful, not that he cared much about rules, he found it too funny to resist annoying the heads of his department_), who, with bracing a foot backwards, tore his own scythe from the downed figure that stopped moving, mouth hanging slack with fangs gleaming in the waning moon.

"Someone's in trouuuuble~" Tilting his head, the black messy haired figure snorted, his body leaning on the planted scythe, seeming too heavy to lift, with how weary the black haired one looked. A singular green eye turned to the black coated figure with blood splatters and sniggered in his own amusement, the iris slitting inwards as the side of his lip slipped upwards to show the blacks own amusement.

"You've got your own problems to deal with Michi-san, after all that cut on your face looks rather deep. What did you do? Get your nose in the way of an incoming cleaver?" Blinking, the black coated figure lifted up long nailed fingers and touched his face, easily manoeuvring slim fingers along the familiar lines without a singular scratch from the overlong bits of bone which, at the current time, were painted a forbidding black. Trailing fingers up under his glasses he then found the sticky liquid which was his own blood, while the tips dipped into a deep cut that as he found, spanned the length from cheek to cheek over the bridge of his nose.

Laughing to himself with glee at the pain which, truly, didn't bother him one bit. The black and red coated figure raised his fingers from the oozing wound to see his own fingers, which were right in front of his eyes, almost poking himself with his own nails, though he didn't seem to care much. Eyebrows rose, as they saw the darker colour of the blood which easily meant a main vein had been cut, most likely in his nose if his calculations were correct.

"Well looks like you've lost your sense of smell after all Michi-san." Looking over with a shrug and an easygoing smile, the crazy death dealer walked over to the other male, his body swaying to his own beat as another tune was hummed from pale lips.

"Things don't look good for you picking on me this way. I'll tellllll on youuuu~" Breathily laughter came from the black haired one, sounding weaker than before, and at that sound Michi stopped, head tilting as silver framed glasses slipped down his blood coated nose, the smile slipping as he finally realized something was truly wrong.

"Kouki-kun?" Michi's voice lost the playful singing quality to it as his movement firmed into a clipped walk, long strands of hair whipping him on the back with the sudden forceful movement, when usually it would sway with a mesmerizing focus. Reaching the black haired one he had to reach out and catch the slightly shorter figure as Taiki slumped backwards with a sudden weakness from his arms that had been holding him up.

His scythe, which was a darkest of black, a lightening-bolt engraved into the skull at the end, with what looked like dragon wings wrapped around the blade and secured in into place; the beautiful metal usually glowing with the energy of its user was dim, and fell to the ground, the metal hitting the ground with a muffled thump, the blade vibrating with a hollow sound in the silence between the two.

Taiki's head fell backwards onto the black clad shoulder, lips parted as he panted for breath, green eyes half closed, while Michi's own were focused with un-nerving intensity on the wound that had sliced through Taiki's body as though he was nothing. From the left shoulder all the way down to his right hip, the wound could be seen, and not only that, but the edges of the wound were clearly serrated, almost like…Michi took in a sharp breath, lips upturning in a bloodthirsty manner.

"This wound is off one of our own kind of weapons, a modified one to be exact, looking to be a class between a traitor or a murderer." His body shook as insane giggles rippled silently through his body.

"I'm gonna kill them~" Tilting his head, Michi watched his own fallen strands of hair turn a bloody red, having fallen into the ruptured flesh, the wound quickly draining of any life, from what he could feel of the already cold body of his companion.

"Don't… Everyone gets their due eventually. Don't you dare mess things up for yourself you daft idiot. Have fun, but don't get yourself killed, let them suffer, but don't let them catch you." A humming sound came from Michi's throat, as the left hand drifted down from where he had held the other, and fingers dipped into the wound, eyes fascinated as the grimace that over took Taiki's face, as the black's body shuddered and a sharp breath was taken in.

"Masumi…" It was a gasp, his body clearly enjoying the pain, while Taiki's mind shuddered away from it, as he always did. Green eyes opened, and fixated on their opposites from what the shorter of the two could see; feeling his gaze, the other tilted his head to fixate his own irises on Taiki's green ones. It always took him back, the sight of those eyes, for the green eyed one knew that only a very few even knew what this death dealers gaze really looked like, and it was well worth it if you gained the privilege, for they were golden in colour, bright near the iris and slightly green near the edges giving him a complete feral look with the usual insane smile on his face (_in-fact it was the reason he wore glasses and hid his eyes, too many times he was chased by others who were freaked out by his gaze, of cause Michi found it funny but decided to cover them up by requisition of the upper departments_) it frightened others due to him looking similar to many of the werewolves that roamed the world, yet they comforted him when Taiki saw them.

"Kouki." A small smile overtook the blacks face, as he leaned up and pressed his lips against the pale bloody cheek, not caring that he could taste the metallic flavour; Michi moved and their lips pressed together. Taiki untangled his right hand and slid it into the long messy strands, the signature braid pressing into his cheek as they curled together, his body straining with the effort of keeping upright. He slumped downwards, their lips unsealing from one another's, a nearly silent chuckle rumbling from Taiki's barely moving chest.

"Far too late…We are so slow." Opening his eyes to once again fasten them on the golden ones above, the green eyed one trailed his hand down that face, cupping a pale cheek, the last of his strength leaving him with the last of his blood, as the black gave a full grin to the quiet one, for Michi was silent for the first time ever, no laughter. No grins. No words. Just a silent façade that looked down at Taiki with an unreadable emotion.

"I guess… I'm the only one… who feels this simple way… I'm sorr…y." His eyes finally shut and the chest stopped, while Taiki's hand dropped, only to be caught in the pale one of Michi, who bowed his head.

"No…Never be sorry. I was too slow. Wait for me to find you. You are mine." Then the body in his arms glowed and vanished, fading away into particles of light that seemed to flutter way, leaving the golden ones arms empty as he slumped the full way to the floor. In his lap, left behind was a specific item that would help the black clad man find Taiki again, for it held everything within the black's life so far within its pages, a soul play, and this one would mysteriously disappear with his help.

Sliding it into his coat, Michi then looked sharply upwards as the scythe shone with renewed energy and then shrunk, going into the carry size with several links trailing off the end. Lifting it into his hand, the long haired reaper brushed away his hair from his left ear revealing three rings pierced into the cartilage. Lifting up his arm he opened one of the rings and slid the scythe-turned-earring into the hoop and sealed it.

'_Keep it safe for me Michi. Or I'll know who to blame~ hehe_.' Hearing that voice in his head, he felt a grin spread across pale lips, as Michi's chest began to vibrate with excruciating laughter and he howled in absolute mirth, echoing across the battlefield, while drawing more of the armies to his position.

"So you want to play this game~ hehehe. I'llll beee waiittt-iiinnnggg~ hahahahaha." With his laughter his power began to grow, for while the golden eyed one was happier than he had ever been, there was a part of him howling in pain too, for it had hurt seeing the body of his dearest and closest friend vanish like that, even though the black clad man knew that Taiki wasn't gone, Michi still felt a sudden gaping hole inside where the other had taken residence for so long, for the souls that went into rebirth only ever had less than 10% chance of regaining any of their past lives, and even less, when you were originally a **Shinigami**.

The floor around him began to crack, while silver rimmed glasses fell from his face, smashing upon the ground, as the clips in his hair keeping the strands back from golden eyes went shooting away, letting the fringe fall into his face, obscuring darkened eyes and giving him a more sinister feature. Spinning his scythe, as the power began to crackle in the air, it started to change something, his hair flowed around him, and the strands glowing as the armies finally reached him, letting a target finally emerge for the turbulent emotions of pain and insane glee.

Laughing out loud he moved, the whole area lighting up with a giant white flash, along with harsh cackling which would accompany the bloody slaughter that would be all that's left of the horde and set in motion for him to become the most known and legendary Shinigami known. But what a lot did not know was his hair was dyed from that sudden flash of white, from a liquid black to a light grey/silver, changing him forever and giving him the nickname **The** **Insane Scythe** among the Death God circles.

Though after the battle Michi would go a different path, for he had another agenda to do after all. Because he chose a new position after that, leaving the Shinigami to their jobs, he instead went to the human realm to carry out what he needed under the guise of his new job…

Undertaker

…To look for the one who was killed by their own people the Death God's. The one who a prophecy was written about, the black haired Taiki also known as Harry Potter.

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End for now. For death doesn't mean dead after all. Be back soooooon~

**Listened to:** Duran Duran – Before the Rain (All you need is now) – I think it matches to Undertaker for some reason.

_As a quick update_: Chaos Metamorphism is near done, all I've got left is a few pages at most, also I'm now working on the next chapter of To Protect the Past, I've got the outline finished at last, and after I complete Ch12 of CM I'll get on to TPP.

_**(oh if you wanna use any of the fics you see me putting up? Just send me a PM ^_^)**_

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Undertakers Shinigami Name – Michi, Masumi (Japanese, last name comes first)

Meanings:

First Name:

MASUMI Meaning "true clarity" (真澄) - Japanese unisex name.

Last Name:

MICHI Meaning "path" ( 道 ) - Japanese unisex name

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Harry's Shinigami Name – Taiki, Kouki Takeshi (Japanese, last name comes first)

Meanings:

First Name:

KOUKI Meaning "light hope" (光希) - Japanese boy name.

TAKESHI Meaning "fierce warrior" (武) - Japanese boy name.

Last Name:

TAIKI 大輝 Meaning "large, great" (_大__tai)_ and "radiance, shine" (_輝__ki)_ – Japanese Boy Name.


	6. Non posso vivere senza di te l LeoEzio

This ones an older one, just been sitting there for a while in my writing folder, so I thought to allow you all to read the 'very' short part I wrote before I began writing 'Sacrifice of Humanity' again. Also Wizard Hanyou and Dimention Traveller are being redone, as many of you have noticed, they are a 'mess' pure and simple, they do not flow and don't fit together right with each of the chapters. So I decided to start again with the basic plot and storyline. Anyhow onto the part piece fic.

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**Title**: Non posso vivere senza di te…

_Fandom_: Assassin's Creed 2 & Brotherhood

_Pairing_: Leonardo/Ezio/Leonardo (isn't it obvious these days I like yaoi?)

Summery: One lost to time, another imbued without time, for the price to pay to protect the apple, is the life of your mortal span.

_**Disclaimer**_: I do not own or make money from my works

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My eyes are closed, back up against the wall, legs sprawled from where I fell, fingers tangling within your locks of hair, as I relish in your company; a sigh passes my ear, as you shift your figure, turning your face further towards mine. Fingers brush softly, as gentle as your soul, as you whisper to me, a plea within.

'_Please…_' I shake my head, holding you tightly around the waist, lips firmly together, if only to hold my cries inside; this sweet, sweet sensation, of your body against mine, let me fall into a ravine of false promise and pain. You shift further, legs now between my own, seeming so faint, as though a ghost, you were; when fingers brushed my eyelids, lips softly kissing down a throat of scars, caressing each one, with that love you had to spare.

'_My own, my beloved; there is nothing to fear. Look at me…_' It hurt…oh how it hurt so, so much, seeing what was not there. Shadows playing tricks on an aching heart, fingers reaching out, as hands stretch foreword in an endless plea; only to grasp air when one once stood, a coloured figure, so full of life, distorts in-front of my eyes, fading away to air, leaving nothing behind. Yet it still plays within my mind, that happy contented smile, a greeting in joy, as two become one and flesh touches once more.

Though this is not true; not more than a fabric in time, lost to me, pale life and deadened hands, with a wish that broke my heart, leaving only fragments behind. My eyes search endlessly, pleading for the other, though no answer comes, and I slip to my knees, silent rain falling from my eyes. Torment, hate, love, lust, my one and only, the second half of my soul, a creator of life, yet a deceiver in death, leaving me alone, within this lifeless world.

I collapse onto the floor, pleas tumbling from trembling lips, as hands grasp for a presence long gone, but only wood meets my flesh, for you are gone, lost to time, leaving only one behind. Trapped within time, untouched by age, I lay there as if lifeless, my eyes dead to them all, lost was I, within a sea of emotion, destroying what sanity was left, in a world as colourless as my heart.

The artefact it was known, piece of Eden was its name, apple of the gods and destroyer of man. How so you were right, other half of mine; it took your life, in exchange for my own, driving the knife, where hands can't go, blue eyes wide, as you lay in your bed, knowing that the curse, was driving you from life. I pleaded with you, tears streaming from my eyes, to let me go, yet you were so determined, and now you're dead.

Foolish was I, to trust in love, brief though it was, for just as you were pieced, that blade entering your flesh, was like my own, tearing you to shreds. I wrapped around you, those last few days, never leaving your side, yet it was not enough, a price had to be paid.

Now years from then, I lie here now, the home you once had, time passing by, too long it has been, lost within my mind, waiting for you, when life was gone. Now I'm getting tired, your rebirth was done, leading a life anew, in a world of metal and man. I watched for a time, but it was for naught, he knew not of the past, breaking me anew. So I left, seeking peace within my soul, as the apple finally leaves me, a new host chosen for its power once more.

So now I lie here, fading to darkness, tiredness upon me, I feel you near again, bringing anew the agony, curling to myself, protecting from your presence, I speak the words, as you curl around me.

'Ti amo, Leonardo…'

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Italian/English

Non posso vivere senza di te… - I can't live without you…

Ti amo, Leonardo – I love you, Leonardo

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Notes: This is an idea I had where Ezio was cursed much like his ancestor Altair to live a life of loneliness, watching over the apple, until the next descendent meant to possess and carry on the taint of the Artefact.

Within this Ezio looses Leonardo before his time leaving the young yet old assassin in agony as the realization of causing the others deaths as he keeps them near, so using the assassins guild he has built up, Ezio hides himself away in what was Leonardo's workshop to stay near the very things that his other half held so dear to him. Thus this way he leads the assassins through the years from the background, only appearing every now and again to give the master assassins their title, other than that he is never seen and gains the title of Ghost.

It is through this and time soon comes to modern day, Leonardo has been reborn and Ezio soon spots him with the crowd. Leo for some reason acts exactly the same as he did when Ezio knew him, except for being more assertive as modern life teaches you to not be 'weak' in society. Ezio in some hopes that the other remembers attempts to reach Leonardo and thus where the story 'could' begin.

_**(oh if you wanna use any of the fics you see me putting up? Just send me a PM ^_^)**_


	7. Programmable User Coding l Sam

AN: Well this is another one that was sitting on my laptop for a while, ever since I saw the Tron Legacy movie that is. Anyhow this was along the lines of my thought in which I wondered, what would it be like to have a Sam that had been turned to the other side? It really did interest me and this little portion was born, it's not much but it had been a work in progress, anyhow have a look and see what you think, it's not my usual type of writings, but oh well, ^_^ enjoy...

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Programmable User Coding

_**Summery**_:

When Sam was younger, C.L.U. didn't take over the grid, didn't create a coop that locked Flynn into the network and strand Tron to become Rinzler, no he did not.

No…He waited, his own reprogrammed creations surrounding him as he waited, watching for the right time to strike within the heart of the imperfect system. Keeping in check his own desire and hatred while time passed by, listening and plotting his truest goal, while keeping the trust of two who didn't fear rebellion at all.

For there was one that was wanted, that both Clu and Tron had heard about, who was the only thing that mattered to Kevin, blocking out his truest purpose, and making things fall apart when the so called miracle appeared.

A child, born of two humans, Sam was his name, and the one thing to break Flynn if he was turned against him. So waiting and watching, the time came, 18 years later, when Sam Flynn, the son of the creator entered the Grid.

Now was the time, for one of the few instance where both Tron and Flynn were occupied, Sam was spirited away. He was changed, his User coding meshed and transformed, slowly creating a new entity through torture, pain, agony and flesh. Coding wrote itself onto his skin, eloping his body into a new self, and memories became skewed, as though time itself was easing him into it.

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**Accessing Program**

**Reconfigurating System**

**Switching Memory Data**

**Activating Project Sarril**

Fingers flexed, the blacked suit began to flicker, and lines of energy seemed to spread across the material, infusing with life that all needed within the Grid. They sat up, lids still shut, as the mouth dropped open, a breath of air escaping from a barely moving chest. Hands clenched on the ends of the chair, the arms creaking and announcing the awakening of the newest one. Feet were flat upon the lit floor, lines of energy also entering from this port, giving the life that was wanted to the program that needed it.

**Programming System…**

The figure moved, legs slipping up under the chair, toes still touching the ground, while the chest of the being moved foreword, leaning towards the ground but stopping before they fell, letting themselves rest as more lights on the 'coat' lit up. The lines of energy had now reached the neck and wrists, ever so slowly curling lovingly around the flesh that was visible, painting 'veins' upon the flesh, and sinking deep within.

**Loading Data…**

Fine strands of brown seemed to feather down, not quite touching the skin, moving as though within a breeze, though it may have been just because of the energy currently emitted, for the whole body seemed lit up, with a 'aura' surrounding them, making them arch in seeming pleasure, as their face looked into be in intense pain. Still some part of the feet did not leave the floor, bringing note to seem as much like a conduit as a computer would be connected into a wall, giving life and movement, to what was once inanimate.

**Transferring File**…_error_

The body slumped, harsh breaths taken in as though they had run a marathon, while the body stayed tense, head drooping. Energy lines flickered, the colouring switching quickly from yellow to white and white to red, never stopping, only getting quicker, as though time was slowly but surely running out. Across from this spectral and unknowing lightshow, which lit up the whole spherical room, a previously hidden door slipped open, silent and smooth, leaving the way for another figure to walk in, yellow lines of energy shining brightly, unheeding of the danger that the seeping pulses could cause to them if they hit.

**Reprogramming** **System**…_failed_

Stopping an arms length away, those blank lips lifted in a shadow of a smirk, no life within, seeming to be only a copy of the true emotional response that was needed with the expression. Lifting a hand, they spread their fingers evenly, and twisted the wrist, the body still while eyes fixed intently upon the prone body which shuddered, seemingly knowing and feeling the presence of the other and the pressure that was just placed upon them though the wordless coded command just given by the high based figure.

Turning his head to the side slightly, the other hand came up, holding a disk which glowed the same flickering colours that the figure did, giving notion that perhaps the two were interlinked, thus creating a bond between the two.

**Transferring Data**… _defective_

The figure shifted their face upwards, while eyes flickered open, revealing the iris's that stared blankly foreword towards their master, like they were awaiting their orders. The pupils were quite strange, glowing brightly from the energy given; they seemed to hold the life the body seemed to miss, giving voice to what seemed a trapped soul within. For one eye was glowing blue, showing a kind but determined being, while the other was a bright red, seeming to colour blood as a way to laugh at others for their folly, for this was a being that would show no mercy under the gaze of that eye.

Laughing to them self, the yellow glowing figure stepped back, while spreading their hands, as though welcoming the sitting figure to the world around.

**Systems online**… _corrupted_

"Now it shall begin, the perfect system, and you…you shall be at its head…" Looking down at the figure that lifted their head a little more, a gleeful smile appeared on the standing programs face, clearly enjoying the dominance over what had been human at one time, while nothing came to the other, almost as though they were nothing more than an empty casket, awaiting to be filled.

**Memories received**… _lost_

"…being the creator of destruction for all who oppose me…and the ultimate program of weakness for our creator, his missing child." Thus the designation of this program was to be given, defining them to the way the 'creator' wanted, and the name slipped free, while the standing one looked on it pleasure.

**Programming complete**… _user_

"The author of a new age upon the Grid and my closest assassin and subordinate, Sarril."

**Activating Sarril**… _sam_

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**Bold –** Basically the formatting process of the new programs System

_Italic_ – The last of the human mind trapped under the programming done to what would be the core of the humans soul

Sarril – The creation of the dark side of sam, basically a Rinzler with a more active and dangerous mind, as well as being more sadistic, this 'programme' would be a mix of the darker impulses of the human race and pure logic of a programmes, not a nice combination.

Sam – Sam himself is trapped inside his own mind and soul, not able to communicate in any way to the outside world, he only has minute moments to slip free and try to find those who were dear to him

Clu – The master of Sarril, instead of going for the pure program Tron, he goes for the human and create the child into a now half breed of both origins, hoping using the own compassion of Flynn against himself. This program is focused on pure logic, not able to show emotion like Tron as he wasn't created this way, the only 'type' of emotion he knows is betrayal when Flynn chose his human life over the promised 'perfect' world they were meant to create. A true program to his very code, he will do anything to make sure that directory he was given becomes a reality.

**_(oh if you wanna use any of the fics you see me putting up? Just send me a PM ^_^)_**


	8. My Made up Nosgothian History l LoK

Well here's a little something that I found on my Desktop yesterday. A little thing I worked on that would have been a story for the Legacy of Kain fic I had planned. As you can guess nothing came of it, though I decided to give you this little interesting piece.

I'm pretty proud of it to tell the truth, it was all written in one sitting within an hour, 4 pages worth. Hopefully you all enjoyed and perhaps if it catches your interest, use it in a fic if ya want. That's what I made it for in the first place anyhow.

* * *

*My Made up Nosgothian History*

* * *

The Arie, fair of form, with skin so pale they seemingly glow within days light; ears curved upwards to the gentlest of points and eyes that gleamed, thy innate power shining within. Truly these were blessed beings, who gave the people knowledge, technology and strange magick's of the like, that made them seem as gods. With wings upon backs, to fly free upon the winds; with the grace of inhumanity among the mortals, and hair that fell gracefully, between the rise of wing and shoulder.

It t'was through fear of these un-aging beings that humans came to resent and hate the Arie, as many years past and it was soon forgotten, these creatures had 'taught' the mortals their knowledge and given them power. Using the tools given to their ancestors, the humans attacked the Arie, forcing the peace kept creatures to fight for survival against the very allies they had bonded with. Many were killed, nearly all town ands cities wiped from the landscape of Nosgoth in the genocide of the battle; and in the aftermath only a few hundred remained of the once proud Arie, though not to say the humans didn't suffer so either, the Arie had near no-one left alive.

It is thought that this battle is what caused the split in the Arie, two factions of the same creature, both with different views about what should be done with the humans who had betrayed them so cruelly. One side wanted the humans to suffer and pay, destroying man to get revenge for the pain of loosing all that was held dear. But the other side didn't want this; they wanted to help the humans as they once did, to re-teach them that they had nothing to fear from the Arie, that they were similar in what they sort and could support one another for the future.

This caused a chasm between the two parties, the betrayed, feeling disgusted towards the sympathy towards humans, the blatant disregard of the damage and hurt that had been caused from man and the so-called sympathy towards their now oppressors, left the aggrieved party feel they didn't belong with the race that was once so noble; they disappeared leaving a feeling of unease in their wake. The other group, saddened by this, let them go, they had not forgotten the tragedy of burning cities, screaming people and blood stained hands, but they didn't want more bloodshed to be spilt when little else was left.

It remained this way for hundreds of years, neither side acknowledging the other, and through this changes began to become apparent within the peaceful people, their evolution process that had stopped many moons ago, had once again began, slowly bringing a new stepping stone for the slowly forgetting Arie. Ever so slowly, certain things became clear as time went by; their near un-aging state had begun to age once more, slowly yes, but clearly moving with the cogs of time. Children born by them clearly didn't have the same lifespan as their elders, thus making them more protective of their own, as though to keep them close, though they gained a slight satisfaction of being able to pass to the next realm at last. Their skin slowly shaded, not white, brown or black like the humans, but a pale, pale blue, as though freezing from cold, yet still living. With this they were able to fly into winds, gales and snowstorms and not feel the effects of the biting chill; clearly they had been given a gift and moved their Airiee home to the mountains for more peaceful settings.

Their wings darkened, the feathers thick and steady, twice the size they originally were to carry them further along the paths of flight. Hands and feet began to meld, changing to clawed hands and feet, giving more purchase upon the rocky sides of the mountain and giving a greater degree of flight range, when able to grip onto to most surfaces available.

But they forgot, forgot the past with the hurt, the pain, the betrayal and the separation;

the Arie did not call themselves Arie anymore for that name was forgotten within time and text; no, the name they gained was 'Ancient', named by the humans they-so-loved. But unknowing to them, their 'brothers' had returned, still fresh with the memory they had never forgotten, never forgave, and thus retained their un-aging status along with many new skills to form.

They clashed, the mortal children of their kind, so different from the past, it tore at the unchanged ones that the 'lost' had clearly fallen and succumb to mortal life; they raged at them, the whole and pure, to the lost and fallen, yet they did not listen, forgotten were they, in the endless streams of time, and thus they fought once more, re-enacting the battle past.

Though the Ancients were young, they were fresh, the unchanged fell to their blades and hated words, cursing them for what they did not know, but it was never to be found out by the last-of-the-Arie, the Ancients, cruel with times passing and humans whispering within their ears, cast a curse upon their souls, leaving them screaming as they began to change.

Their skin gained a grey tint, as though death itself waited just beyond the veil for them; their feathered wings, with many light colours lost the feathers to reveal a gnarled resemblance to the pride they once wore, eyes became slitted and tiny scales emerged upon the bodies gleaming within the light, fingernails lengthened into delicate points, clearly dangerous to all, and thus their ears lengthened, merging with bone that stretched backwards, creating a crest on either side of the skull.

It was agony, even when the changes completed themselves, leaving the once Arie a completely new species, separate from their brethren in all but name. Absolving their pride, broken voices pleaded with the 'Ancients' to the reason for the betrayal of their own, and the younglings responded with glee in their eyes.

'_We were told of the arrival of those who would change us, warnings given for the betrayers of faith, thus to be dealt with a spell we were given, to change the creature to the true form that is hidden away from mortal eye. So we were ready for you, traitors; our 'God' will not allow you to pull us from the wheel-of-fate, the hub of all life from which you are denied, your plans are done and you are exposed, thus we are safe from your tricks now, go back to the darkness from whence you came_!'

They were left to die, the last-of-the-old-ones, betrayal and hate forming for their brethren, and untrue crimes they had been condemned with; moving together they begun to plan, to see and to do, for this atrocity would not be let loose, too many times, with too much pain, this betrayal would be the last, if they, the ones that called themselves 'Ancients' wanted to forget their true selves, then they would give them their wish. No more would the name Arie filter through tight lips, they would keep it safe within them until a time they could resolve the conflict that the young ones had begun in their ignorance. No, instead a new name was created and one that the 'Ancients' would come to hate and despise with all their hearts, Hylden.

-_It is said through rumour and speculation, that perhaps the Ancients may have had a spell upon their own person, causing them the unique changes that many came to know. It is not known what truly happened in the war between Hylden and Vampire, as no records of this time have ever been found, but what is certain, is that though the Hylden got sealed away, many half-breeds were left behind, as were Ancient Halflings, but where they many be; it is another question which has no answer, though sightings have been spotted of the two kinds together, through various parts of Nosgoth_.-

*End*

* * *

Arie - No one in this age, truly knows where the Arie come from, it has been said they came to the planet to escape some fate and settled down upon the shores of Nosgoth. In meeting with the humans, a pact was created to ensure the protection of both Man and Beast, thus ensuring the survival of future generations.

_Creatures_:

Arie (_Original Blood line of both Hylden and Ancient Origin)_

Ancients (_Original Sire of the Vampire Race)_

Vampires (_Current bloodline of the Vampire Plague_)

Vampial (_Half Breed of Vampire and Human Blood_)

Hylden (_Original Sire of the Magic in Humans and creation of the Sarafan)_

Hyldain (_Half Breed of Hylden and Human Blood_)

Were-wolfs (_Feral beasts that change by the moon, these creatures are created through the bite of a Were-wolf or feral Shifter, Children also inherit the curse though it acts more like a shifters ability than an unstable plague)_

Shifters (_Original were-creatures, not many were left after the purging of all races due to human fear of the powerful, only a few have ever been seen, though it is thought that they live deep within the forests and the marshes_)

Demons (_Creatures of magic, originally from a different dimension they find pleasure in finding humans and taking their life-force_)

Half Demons (_These creatures come in all different shapes and sizes, from looking all human, to having animal features, to not looking human at all. The Sarafan hunt half-demons as much as vampires_)

Sarafan (_Magic imbued humans, said to have a little Hylden in their blood to enable the use of Glyph magic_)

Humans (_Developed when there was not enough magic to complete their creation, humans are stunted and short-lived unless they breed with a creature of in-human origins to regain what was lost.)_


	9. Black Roses Red l OC

I decided to move it to Ramblings of an active mind as I haven't written any more of this fic since I began it, so I'll let it sit within the archive with the other unwritten ones.

_Summery_: They say a black rose turns red when true love is found. I found love at a young age and my rose turned red but as he left me it turned black once more. With red only dusting the edges of the petals I know he is still out there for the rose will only wilt if one of us dies. So I search for him, but will he want to be found once again?

Disclaimer: I don't own Peter Pan

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**Black Roses Red**

_Prologue_

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You think you know the truth of the matter, what is real and what fantasy is. You are pressed to think that many things that you believe are nonsense with no question to why you need to throw away what you think is truth. Many close their eyes and ears, loosing the ability to listen to the unknown and see the unseen.

This is the truth for many children pushed into adulthood, dreams become farce and reality takes over. Believing dies and so do the realities you have yet to find, for adults tell you to shut away your mind and you do loosing the perception of the other worldly.

Why do I speak of this? I have seen the unseen, heard the unknown and believed in the unworldly. I have traveled to other places and seen many wonderful things, nothing you could ever imagine. For what is reality and what is the dream? It is both and none.

I once laughed and smiled; played as the child I was and still am. But a broken heart is a hard thing to live with; it can destroy you completely from the selfish actions of not only myself but of another. For it takes two to shatter a heart to pieces and leave it crumbling on the ground.

Even now with my gloved hand fisting, my heart I can feel that ache, nothing physical but not mentally either. But of my soul calling out for its mate who ripped me to shreds before sending me away, the scars may be mental but the tears I have shed are real and as bitter as I have been and can be.

I was only six years old, a red head or as most call it copper colored a beautiful color. My eyes were blue with streaks of silver that looked grey around the edges. I smiled and laughed enjoying the annoyance I was to the teachers from my prancing and the laughs of my friends.

I was quite short for my age and a total tomboy; I hated dresses and still do. I used to dream and imagine things, acting them out not only in front of my parents but anyone who would come and see, most would join in laughing as we acted out the scenes from books or films, turning it into what we thought should have happened smiles and smirks upon all our faces.

That night I was alone acting out a scene from my favorite book, smirking as I carefully acted out the steel sword in my hand a natural feeling after being taught for a few years. It was when I lunged foreword, sword outstretched that the window shot open a harsh wind blowing in causing me to drop the sword to cover my face as I fell to my knees.

This is where it gets hazy, I know I went somewhere and had the best of times I ever had, but somewhere near the end something went wrong. I woke up on the floor everyone crowding around me, looking around on my hands and knees after pushing them all back; I took in the room we all shared.

The window was open, wetness coming rain outside and a set of footprints. As soon as I saw those I stumbled upright ignoring the concerned voices and pushed past their grasping hands to the bathroom. Shutting and locking the door I swayed in place as I leaned against the oak of the door, hearing the voices of the others call out to me.

But I did not answer, breathing sharply I took in a deep breath as I slid down the wood to the linoleum flooring and tears streaked down my face, silently I cried as I fisted my hand over my heart. I knew it had been broken but even a couple of minutes of getting back to the world I knew the memories had already hazed and drifted to the back of my memory.

But the one thing that always got to me was no matter what I tried, I could never bring back the face of the one who had torn me to pieces and left me. I did not hate whoever it was and even now hope to never see them again, the pain would be too great and I have a feeling I will lose the rest of my sanity that I have left.

True love it's not something to be taken lightly, I know I had felt it that day in my 6th year of life. The tug of knowing that one out there is my soul mate has always been strong, even though I have told no-one about this whoever it was that took me back to my stricken life is still out there. There is one thing I know, the one who brought me back to this existence knew I did not want to return but still brought me back, I have always tried to remember why but only one thing comes to mind 'Not yet, too soon'

Ever since then I have been searching inside myself for answers I cannot find, despair raged through me for a great many years closing me off to all others, they could not connect to me and I to them. It hurt when they stopped and I was alone, for so many years of having others to connect with they just dropped me like I was nothing and that was when I realized the hell I had come to see.

Adults are selfish, children are cruel, teenagers are disrespectful and older people fear the new generation. They make sure we are within the rules of the society crushing many spirits of children that want to be free to dream and play. Forced to grow up far too soon it passes on to their own children crushing hopes as though they are of no matter.

Promises are broken, dreams are shattered and hope is destroyed. How do I know? From the experiences I have been through, for the project to create the 10 perfect Biological warfare subjects for the coming third world war, this was the reality I was born into. To be molded into a creature of destruction with no feeling and guilt, except they went a step further.

Because of this the project went out of control and myself and the surviving subjects escaped into the world around us, stealing the documents of the families we belonged to, whether they be dead or not. Scattering we disappeared into the population knowing the ones who had created us will never let us go.

It has been two years and now I am 15 years of age though I don't look like I have aged past 13. I have become a wealthy member of society and am now returning to what had been my home when I was very young. So follow me and my story if you want to know more for things will happen soon, I can feel it.

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_Unknown POV_

A black limo stops in front of the two story home, the driver with his pressed suit opens the door, bowing as he did so. Murmured words come from within and the driver straightens up as he adjusts his hat as he shakes his head in response. Holding out his other hand it is brushed aside with a gloved hand.

Sighing he steps back and a small figure emerges from the interior, a cloak with the hood pulled up hides their features and gender as they move their legs out of the limo to settle upon the floor gracefully. Leather boots shine dully as dark green trousers, which are tucked into them, are hidden from view by the cloak.

The driver speaks gesturing to the house and the figure shakes their head, cutting off the mans words with a sharp gesture of their hand. Retreating the Driver climbs back into his seat, satisfied the figure turns and closes the door. The cloak shifts enough to show a long sleeved shirt also colored dark green, with the sleeves tucked into the gloves which are at elbow length.

Turning once more the figure looks up at the house that looks like any other, situated on one of the older parts of town ivy has climbed the walls and overshadowed the roof giving the place a homey look. The paint on the wooden door was faded enough for the original brown color to show through and the red bricks were darkened with age though still very much intact.

After taking it all in the figure walked foreword to the door, the eyes of the driver watching carefully concerned for the figure who had stopped as though frozen. Indeed the person had frozen, memories of themselves as a child playing and running through the hallways of the home in front of them. Breathing deeply in from the night air, the figure turned their head upwards and saw the moon for once shining down upon the street, not a cloud in the sky.

For a long moment the person gazed at the soft light of the full moon before shaking themselves to brake the trance, taking in a deep breath the figure reached out a key in hand and unlocked the door. The lock making a grating sound clearly showing it had not been used in a long time. Then once the key had been put away into one of the pockets of the trousers, the figure rested a hand on the door handle.

Gripping harshly the figure turned the handle and it swung open, the hinges groaning with the use once more. Taking a look over their shoulder the figure signaled to the driver who nodded in response. Then turning to the entry the figure strode inside, unwary of the eyes that watched this all from above before seeming to disappear into thin air. The figure of the cloaked person disappeared into a house that had not been occupied for many years.

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_Data of subject:_

At Birth: She was born a perfectly ordinary child, one of 50 that was picked for an experiment into biological warfare

At age one: She is walking and talking, the drugs used to accelerate her learning process, though she was a happy fun loving child that loves stories

At age two: She was tested for abilities in different subjects, mischievous side is apparent for she tries to find ways to get out of lessons - 40 candidates left for the biological warfare program

At age three: Escapes her tutors and instructors, enjoys prancing them when she can as well as increasing her vocabulary and playing as much as she could, gained a circle of friends from the local school

At age four: Weapon's lessons now brought into play as well as many other skills to increase capacity for future development and changes - 30 candidates left for the biological warfare program

At age five: Imagination has grown as well as skills and abilities put into play to escape her tutors, also she is able to do all primary subjects and has moved on to advanced ones, has become cocky as she learns and pranks her teachers

At age six: Goes missing for a half a year and returns different from the cocky fun loving child, takes her studies seriously and has advanced to the top of her class within a month, moving on to studies above the academic stage - 20 candidates left for biological warfare program

At age seven: She has become cold to those around her, she does not smile often and when it does it is empty, very intimidating to others around her, parents have died and left her with relatives, she is accelerating well

At age eight: Top of her class, clothing has changed to reflect herself making her look older, only few she trusts, have moved from academic lessons to diploma though she does not apply what she has learned to practice – 10 candidates finally chosen for the biological warfare, experimentation can begin

At age nice: The changes are going well, the implanted animal characteristics are merging nicely with her human physique, soon see which of the many animals DNA has fully integrated into her form

At age ten: Surprising the abilities now she is able to use, has killed two of the others and is able to hide the unusual features with the newest abilities gifted to her from the animal DNA. Speed, strength, hearing, smell, sight and more have increased beyond human comprehension, closer watch is needed on subjects – 8 subjects left of Biological warfare project

At age eleven: Features have evolved further than intended and are not able to be changed resisting all attempts to return to humanized state, has become more closed off with her emotions barring all attempt to reach her, drastic measures are now needed with three of the subjects dead from fighting – 5 subjects left of Biological warfare project

At age twelve: Aggression has become commonplace between the subjects as the animal DNA has settled in, instincts from the animal counterparts has appeared in the subjects physique and has integrated itself fully, any attempts to remove it or tame results in extensive damage to the personal, subduing methods have become commonplace – 4 subjects left of Biological warfare project

At age thirteen: Extensive damage to the building, all subjects gone, most personal dead, subjects must immediately be captured for public safety.

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_End Prologue_

Ok this is based on a song, Black Roses Red** by Alana Grace**


	10. Destined to be Damned l HP Crossover

Another I Moved over to the archive, where it will stay.

**_legacyofkain harrypotter crossover legacyofkain harrypotter crossover_**

**Destined to be Damned**

A Legacy of Kain/Harry Potter Crossover/Ficlet

Summery: "You want to know? – Fine. I shall reveal my knowledge of the events I partook with my own eyes. I shall reveal to you every blood fetid, bone shattering detail, so you see what I speak within your minds eye…"

**Warnings**: Torture of children, blood, descriptive, bashing of the sarafan

Disclaimer: I do not own or make money from this fic

_****__legacyofkain harrypotter crossover legacyofkain harrypotter crossover_

"You want to know?" That voice curled up out of the silence, like a snake strikes within darkness. Eyes of the brothers looked fleetingly towards one another, wondering if maybe, this time the other had been sent too far.

"Fine. I shall reveal my knowledge of the events I partook with my own eyes. I shall reveal to you every blood fetid, bone shattering detail, so you see what I speak within your minds eye, and know, you asked for the images that will haunt you furthermore on this day of mourning." He looked away, eyes sliding shut, as he looked back and visualised the scene once more to share with the brothers and the king; the tragedy that had befallen his kind within the worst way.

"It was, as I had come to know of it, a quiet time within the cells which the Sarafan held us prisoner. Not one of us had become a victim of torture, or a beating of verbal and physical means within the weeks passing; yet we knew that those humans had something…more planned for us this time."

"We just did not see what they had in store for us all; for if we had known ahead, none of us would have sat back and let the mortals free to evict their pleasures upon our flesh and scar our very bodies, no matter how quickly they healed."

"Using the magicked collars around our necks, they caused our very bodies to betray us and we fell to the flooring, unable to more except blink the lids of our eyes and growl with our stilled voices."

"Many soldiers came within the building, moving in the cells to bring us out and chain us each to the many shackles along the nine walls; for as you had already guessed by this moment, that we were within an antechamber that connected us all together, allowing each of us to oversee the pain another went through."

"Alas this time, that would not be the case, for within this chamber of nine, three stone slabs were set out in the middle, evenly spaced, so between two slabs, two people could stand comfortably without brushing the other, able to work unhindered by another."

"Across the ground around these slabs, were black 'puddles' of dried blood; which the deadened smell clearly told my senses, that had also lead me and all others in this prison to believe that death only awaited those upon the slabs; but what we would come to know would be a much more disquieted fate, for we were part right, but in a way that the wounds would never heal."

"The main door opened, which was based in the…Northern section if I remember correctly; my perception of direction had fled me within that underground cavern, my senses could not help me within the accursed place. T'was like the stone walls were imbued with a magick so potent, that it drained my own natural abilities and left me bare as a child stumbling its way through the darkness."

"Within, came many guards, two on the end of each cell, able to use their swords to discipline us if we got out of hand, there were 16 in all, though there could be more; as my mind had slipped away from the guards and to the next mortals who stepped within the chamber which we were held within."

"My eyes went wide, my body stiffening as best able, as I looked upon the next beings that crossed our path. Three inquisitors, all wearing white clothing from head to feet, covering everything even the faces, making it near impossible to see them; only their eyes stayed uncovered, which to see the work they would proceed through with delicate care."

"Behind them, there were six soldiers more, wearing darkened red armour, showing they were of the elite squad that 'questioned' prisoners, they were side by side, walking two by two towards the slabs and between them…"

"…children, youngsters no more than 70 summers gone, all looking within their young teens, each clearly showing heritage from several different species. Each were straining against the imbued shackles, that chained them to their capturers, but their characteristics' were clear who they belonged to."

"The first, closest to my position and the slabs, was a young heridainian male, clearly of Yaukhai heritage; shoulder blond strands, seeming to gleam in the light were clear indication of his clan, whilst slitted blue/grey eyes searched wildly for an escape that would be not be coming, along with the jagged fringe which fell into those stormy eyes. Clothing of the highest material were ripped and shredded, no blood thankfully, yet bruises were apparent upon the pale skin. Yet like all his kind, the youngster did not wear coverings upon the foot, due to the delicacy curved claws on his hands and feet; which not only aided in gripping, but also of climbing all surfaces to immeasurable heights. He was only within his second semester of growth having just left childhood behind, yet not an elderling."

"Next, was another young male, again of heridainian heritage; for they had all come from the same group, along with his twin who was also behind him, snarling and sending high pitched barks at the humans. Both had messy black hair, though the second had tints of grey at the ends, which fell to the middle of his shoulders. The other had shorter hair that only reached where his ears would have been, if not of his linage. The ears were further up and quite long, bathed in a thin layer of black fur, which twitched every other way. These two were of the bat Yaukhai blood, for their claws and eyes gave it away clearly."

"But what horrified me the most, was not who they were, but the species that had been taken from their clearly broken protections; for upon the three young ones backs, were wings of magnificence. Upon the blond were greyish/silver feathered appendages, not fully grown yet…able to lift and keep his body from the ground, for a few scant seconds. Same were the twins, who like their playmate, tried to use these powerful limbs to escape from the humans who had shackled them."

"The three were the first of a cluster of ten, to be born after 1000 years of infertility; a powerful sign that the clans were beginning to regain strength; yet within these deathly walls, three which the hope of the clans now stood, were within human hands."

"Myself and the others, strung up upon the prison shackles, were silenced in seeing the children; instincts flew forth, wanting to protect, to hide away the young ones form the danger that the mortals clearly expelled, but could do nothing, and within those caverns I began to hate for the first time, the humans who had us trapped as their slaves, willing or not. Yet we were about to find, that the cruelty of the humans ran far deeper that we expected; a corruption that was going to show its fangs, and sink its teeth into the hell that awaited."

"The inquisitors moved forward, each going towards a different slab; when reached, each moved down and extracted from under the slabs, within hidden compartments, trays of 'instruments' and a chill came upon us. The red soldiers led the thrashing children to the slabs, and with the strength of both, were able to stretch the children across the stone; the metal poles at each end, each with a shackle, were fastened onto the arms and legs of them all. Keeping them completely defenceless and helpless, then reaching over the head, they brought up collars with a chain connecting them to the stone, and also cuffed it around the neck of the young ones. Lastly, a leather strap was buckled over the middle, tightly enough, that I could see the skin turn red under the pressure."

"I then saw them pull the wings, which had been crushed under the children's body weight, and spread them over the sides, the tips only reaching halfway down due to their small sizes. From around me, I could see and hear the others struggling and snapping at the guards, who in retaliation, decided to beat the surrounding Yaukhai into submission; I myself, became aware of several cuts that the guards beside me had placed upon me, when I had struggled without realisation. Snarling in anger and aggression, I lunged as best I could but was soon stopped."

"Screams filled the air and stilled us all, the children were sending up cries of screams, yells, pleas and yelps of pain, as with smiles of satisfaction, the inquisitors placed the seemingly delicate saws to the toes of the children and began to saw, verrrrrry slowly. My gaze by now was only on one child, the blond one who was within the middle; blue/grey eyes had latched onto my own, within guilt and agony filled me. I could do nothing for them, nothing; it was with that realisation, within the chamber as blood slid down from the split skin, of veins broken, as bones cracked and fell; which fire seared the air of burning skin and tissue as the wounds cauterized."

"Which then began again, from ankles, knees, hips, fingers, knuckles, elbows and lastly shoulders; every part was taken from the living bodies, with no seeming reaction to the shivering forms on the slabs. Keens now razed the air, as again the latest 'wounds' were soldered shut, leaving bone ends poking from fleshy ends."

"I felt sick, every hiss of splitting skin from the saws, the crunching of breaking bone, the splatter of crimson blood, it only brought me horror this time round, and they were not done yet. The next stage now began, which would put the last to even greater shame, in the evil the mortals could cause to ones so young."

"Finished with the pieces and the saw, the inquisitor placed all into woven baskets and the red soldier took it from the chamber; where too I never found, but wished I could to bury the pieces at least, to lay them at rest from the torture, that shattered their spirits and destroyed them too."

"The inquisitor took out a thin but long knife, the blade shining in the firelight of the torches, like something out of a mystical tome; turning back to the blond, the being began to shave the blond locks from the scalp; careful not to nick the skin while cutting close as possible. These too were taken away and again, I do not know were they ended."

"Next, setting down the blade; the mortal took what looked like two very thin metal prongs, attached to the littlest blades ever seen, with these they inserted them into the ears of the child and snipped. The sound that came from the youngster was unreal, I cannot explain, the height of agony and fear within the child, which struck out in that sound and hit us all, everyone flinched, even the soldiers. Yet the inquisitor was not bothered, he withdrew the prongs and I realised what was on the end of those pieces of metal, covered in dark blood; it was the eardrum from the inner ear; the human had 'I_cut out the sense of hearing/I_', and I knew this was in make the other focus more on the pain; for, if not able to hear those around you, the other senses increase to make up for it, this is what the inquisitor wanted and he succeeded."

"Both ears were given this treatment, and it did not stop from there, their nose was next and then their eyes. Three of five senses were now deadened to the youngsters, and I feared even more about what was next, how much more could be done, when everything that could be done was."

"Ha! I was a fool, there was still much left to do, for they had what they now wanted, blind and deaf victims, to feel the pain ever more within their immortal hell."

"They were now ready to begin the next stage, by this time, the others around me had begun to fight the restraints with none of the soldiers stopping them; like me, the soldiers were stuck with horror and unable to move, to stop watching this show of mutilation and humiliation."

"The inquisitor had picked up a very fine blade, thin yet sharp as we saw. He had turned the head of the Yaukhai and brought the blade down, upon the tip he carved the ear tip off, as though carving meat thinly from the bone, and set to do this for the whole ear, then the other side."

"It was silent, except for the sounds of the others shackled around; the child was silent, mouth open in a silent scream, unseeing eyes staring upwards. How the youngster stayed awake was a mystery to me, until later I found a spell upon the collar, that kept the victim awake until the very last breath, letting the torture follow the other into the next life, to always stain the soul of the lost one."

"I had to turn away, when I saw the blade head towards the unseeing eyes; knowing in my mind what they were doing even as I did not look, but as with all beings of intelligence; curiosity, even of a horrified nature, drew me back to see and I near threw up. The lids were gone, as were the eyes, only some, see-through mucus was left, whilst blood ran like streaming tears from the eyes, eyes that had no pupil, neither iris, nor ball. There was nothing, except holes, that seemed to stare at me in accusation and hatred."

"I had failed the kits, in every way, and after that one time I did not turn away, I watched, until the last breaths left their tiny bodies. Every. Last. Thing."

"I watched as teeth were pulled from the mouth, the tongue cut out, skin stripped to the muscle below, to the stomach being slit and the intestines and organs were taken out with such, precision and care. I watched and heard, as a wheezing whine came from the body of meat, not a child any longer; my ears folded tightly back, as the heart was clipped from its protected cage."

"The last thing I can remember is seeing the breaths of the blond go slower and slower, the chest stilling, seemingly so slowly; as the heartbeat in my ears, came to a stop, and I stared still into sightless eyes. I felt a single one of my tears slipping down my face; my own sightless eyes replaying everything within a second, and with a roaring cry that erupted from my throat, I faded, the only thing left to me, was the breaking sound of stone and the hundreds of dead mortals when I awoke once more, still within the chamber." Golden/green eyes blinked and looked at the six vampires all still standing/sitting in the same places which I had began the tale. A couple were pale, the blood having deserted their faces. While the face of the sire of all Kain, still looked impassive, except with the furrow to his brow the showed his own discomfort.

For the king may have been a ruthless one, yet even he, the first and last vampire, would never allow torture, of a purely sadistic type within his kingdom.

"After I awoke, I buried the…remains of the children. Then I went quickly to lord Raziel, to request asylum for my kind and the safety as well as security for the kits. Thus here I am, at the Sanctuary of the Clans to ask these…requests, with your lords will." He lifted his head and locked gazes with the yellow eyes of Kain, not backing down from the intent gaze of the cold Vampiric king; who would either damn or save the last of the Yaukhai.

**_legacyofkain harrypotter crossover legacyofkain harrypotter crossover_**

_End?_

_****__legacyofkain harrypotter crossover legacyofkain harrypotter crossover_

_Authors Note:_

Vampires are bad for me.

Before anyone asks, I have no clue where this came from, it's been bouncing around in my head ever since I thought of a Legacy of Kain and Harry Potter crossover in the same subject. For some reason, I can only see the crossover being a lovely dark type, with a lot of blood and gore.

Ok the character speaking? That is Harry himself, who is an 'ancient', yes ancient Demon who is speaking to five of the original Vampire Generals (except Raziel who is sorting the housing for the new arrivals), and Kain. (Tis my first fic in this genre so what ya all think?

Oh I tried to use the olde style they favour in the games too, so how did I do?

_****__legacyofkain harrypotter crossover legacyofkain harrypotter crossover_

**Explanations**

Yaukhai (Yark-hi) = Nosgothian of Youkai

Heridainian (Her-i-dane-i-an) = Harry's kind, they are of similar demon characteristics, mainly flight; the wings define them though some do not have wings and can manipulate the winds to fly them instead.

Second semester = All children of Yaukhai heritage go through semesters, as they pass certain 'points' in their age and growth. The first semester is cased as years 10 through to 60. The second is 61 through to 110. These are classed respectively as Small-one and Youngling. Babes have no name but have commonly been referred to as Kitlings by Kitsune and it has stuck with all breeds.

Elderling = Third semester of growth, when they reach the first Yaukhai teen years, by this time they will look like 20-25 year olds yet will only just be maturing in emotions by this time. The age this semester goes on for is 111 through to 250


End file.
